Hermitage
by Audreidi
Summary: The last chapter added...a sequel to come soon, I promise! R&R, bitte schön.
1. Darkness Falls

Disclaimer: Any characters/places/anything else that has a place in the Star Wars universe according to George Lucas and company is not mine. I think you'll be able to figure it out just fine on your own, yes?

Feedback is welcomed with open arms, as usual. (^^)

He had found it. A spaceport on the other side of Coruscant from Imperial City, and it was bustling, too. He lingered in the shadows outside the entrance, carefully brushing against passing pedestrians' minds to see what their destinations were.

A blue-skinned Twi'lek walked toward the entrance, his Whiphid companion trotting beside him. Both looked rather nonchalant, dressed in almost outrageous clothing, strolling along without hurry, though not as if they had all the time in the galaxy.

He furrowed his brow and probed lightly. The Twi'lek's thoughts dwelt on his ship, on the cargo they had received an hour ago, and the rendezvous near the Dantooine system…

__

Pirates? He frowned, considering his other options, then gathered himself and strode up to meet them. With any hope, they would look past the rangy figure with longish, unkempt hair and beard.

The Whiphid noticed him immediately and tapped the Twi'lek's shoulder.

He nodded at them respectively. "Good day to you, gentles. Might I borrow a moment? I'm looking for a ride to Alderaan; how does four thousand sound to you?"

The Twi'lek looked somewhat surprised. _He's not used to being approached by hitchhikers, especially not beaten-down, emaciated hitchhikers that offer four thousand for a comparatively short ride._

The Twi'lek tapped a fingernail against his jawbone, his lekku twitching sporadically. "Five. We're leaving in a hurry."

He considered, then nodded, thankful for the brief bargain. "Deal."

"Right," said the Twi'lek, seeming relieved for the same reason. "We're taking off in less than an hour, so if you'll follow me. Introductions when we get there."

His Whiphid companion kept a suspicious eye on him, as if he was an Imperial spy or something equally ridiculously far from the truth.

Obi-Wan nodded, and followed along, attempting to project an innocuous aura which worked better on the passers-by and Imperial custom officials than it did on the Whiphid.

The Twi'lek's small shuttle rested in a bay close by. The boarding ramp slid open, and the blue alien gestured for Obi-Wan to enter, the Whiphid leading the way. "Please. Sit and make yourself comfortable; we'll meet my orbiting ship in a few minutes."

The inside of the shuttle was lavishly decorated. Obi-Wan sat on one of the velvety chairs, keeping his posture erect despite his fatigue, afraid he might fall asleep if he were to lean back.

The Twi'lek headed for the cockpit, leaving the Whiphid to keep an eye on their presently anonymous passenger. Besides the hulking alien, a Twi'lek child was positioned on an identical chair, his bright green eyes staring at Obi-Wan. The youngster's blue coloring made Kenobi guess that he was the son of their pilot.

The shuttle rose easily and exited the bay. Obi-Wan remained alert to the Whiphid's movements, checking periodically for any hostility from his surroundings, as was his habit.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" said the young Twi'lek, his expression blatantly curious, swinging his short legs back and forth.

"Yes," Obi-Wan admitted.

"I thought so," said the child. "We're going to have lunch when we get up to my dad's ship."

Obi-Wan smiled faintly as he realized the child's presence was unusually strong; he was sensitive, mildly at least. "Can you often tell when people are hungry?"

The little Twi'lek frowned and tugged at one of his lekku, draped over his shoulder. "I guess so. But nobody except for me knows when _I'm_ hungry."

"You're a bit hungry right now," said Obi-Wan.

The child's eyes widened as he stopped swinging his legs. "How do you know?"

"The same way you do."

A grin spread across the young Twi'lek's face. "Neato. Can you tell how hungry Narha is? I think he's hungry."

Narha, the Whiphid, shifted uneasily. Obi-Wan knew their species could often be quite superstitious; perhaps he could dispel suspicion by making it a game. If the child was on good terms with him, chances were it would rub off on the father. Besides, it looked as if the kid could do with a little entertainment. "He's ravenous, all right," said Obi-Wan with a wink. "And I think your dad could do with some food, as well."

The Whiphid relaxed a little as the child's grin grew wider.

***

The pirates' ship was even more massive than Obi-Wan had estimated. It looked like an old troop carrier, heavily modified with quite prohibited weaponry, some of which he hadn't seen for years, and only on some of his most dangerous missions.

The Twi'lek introduced himself as Shena Hinn, captain of the ship, which had keptthe name _Vendetta's Companion_. Obi-Wan presented himself as one Orlan Ytho, the name on his false identity card.

Hinn's son, Kadeq, led Obi-Wan around the ship after the meal, acquainting him with the quite unrefined inhabitants of the Companion. Obi-Wan half-wondered if Kadeq thought he was there to stay, so eager was the youngster to show him around.

While Captain Hinn was not particularly amiable, he was generous in accommodating Obi-Wan, allowing him to eat in the mess hall with the rest of the crew and giving him his own room.

Kadeq insisted on sitting with "Orlan" at each meal, giggling outrageously as they related to each other the hunger of the individuals sitting at the next table.

Obi-Wan was sitting in the common room, telling an old story to Kadeq, when Captain Hinn walked in and seated himself, listening as Obi-Wan drew the tale to a close and turned to face him.

"You're looking better, Ytho," commented Hinn.

"Thanks to your generosity," said Obi-Wan. "I'm very grateful."

"But," continued Hinn, "I think you still owe me for this ride. You seem to be good at telling stories; mind telling me how you got this way?"

Obi-Wan glanced down at his hands, his knuckles still standing out despite the substantial meals. "The Empire didn't take a liking to me. I've been on the run for a while now."

Hinn nodded. "I know the feeling, though there wasn't much difference for me between the Republic and the Empire."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "At least the Republic accepted non-humans."

"Yeah, well, human or not, we still got beat up from time to time. But this is supposed to be your story, not mine."

Obi-Wan sighed. "All right. I suppose I'll start at the point where I killed an Imperial after he murdered my only son."

Shena looked at Kadeq, who was listening raptly.

"I'm sure you can sympathize, being a father yourself," continued Obi-Wan wearily. "For months I was in hiding, trying to find a way off Coruscant. Or Imperial Center, as it's known now. The only reason I'm alive now is that I managed to find a few friends who gave me what they could."

"How about your wife?" asked Hinn.

"I've never had one. I adopted my son, but sometimes you might have fooled me." Obi-Wan shook his head, closing his eyes, knowing his analogy was very close to the truth. "My father set the boy free from slavery but died soon after, so I took him as my own. It was the only thing I could do."

Hinn's expression was grim. "Why did the Imperial kill your son in the first place?"

"He wanted to recruit my son to their forces, but my son refused. He understood the heart of the Empire and wanted nothing to do with it. He never could have accepted. So that's why I'm heading to Alderaan; it's where my sister lives."

"Well," Hinn reasoned, "at least you're not one of those Jedi. I never thought I would, but I pity them. The way things are going, they're not going to last much longer."

"They still have a chance," said Obi-Wan, thinking of the twins, "slight as it may be."

Hinn laughed. "I can't see how they do. Do you ever watch the news? They're at the top of the Empire's hit list."

"Yeah, but it would take some kinda bounty hunter to turn one of _them_ in," piped up Kadeq. "I saw a documentary on them. They have these laser swords that can deflect blaster bolts, and they can really fight."

"Mysterious sentients, aren't they?" murmured Obi-Wan, silently thanking Kadeq for the unknown encouragement.

Hinn shook his head. "You got that right."

***

He had been told that they would arrive at Alderaan in less than half an hour. Obi-Wan headed back to the quarters that he had been given, took out a datapad, and began to write a message.

__

Kadeq. This is very important, so I want you to read carefully, and keep this message secret. Remember when we looked at someone and could tell whether they were hungry or not? Very few sentients have that sort of ability. I want you to keep it secret from now on, from everyone who doesn't know about it so far. And if you ever start to know anything about someone besides hunger, keep that to yourself as well, from even your father. You will understand why, someday, Kadeq. Goodbye…

Obi-Wan paused.

__

…and may the Force be with you.

From your friend Orlan.

He recorded it, erased everything else on the datapad, and stowed it in his pocket, then went outside to meet with Kadeq one last time. 

***

The cloak was black like pitch; it completely enveloped its wearer, masking his identity. But only visually.

He stood by the young one, who was recovering health in the bacta tank. This one was like no other; the suffering he had endured would have killed a lesser one of his kind. But he was stronger, he was destined to bring balance…the Emperor would see to that prophecy.

He stirred slightly, the pain from his burns firing up in what remained of his skin. Palpatine had felt his anguish in the pit; it had not been long, but it had been extremely damaging. This one would be permanently scarred, and would need to carry a life-support system if he would live. And he would. He was tenacious as any other Jedi. He would make it through the wreathing agonies, both physically as well as mentally. 

But what Palpatine needed most now was reinforcement. Dooku was dead, as well as his former apprentice, Maul, and the same Jedi had destroyed them both.

And, in a way, had destroyed Skywalker. Kenobi should have never become a teacher; he was far better as a general, unfortunately. Or fortunately, depending upon one's point of view, Palpatine decided, in a mocking parody of the Jedi Master's philosophies.

That was something that would have to be dealt with eventually. The Sith's apprentices were dead; Kenobi and the whole coterie had searched for the master. Him, Darth Sidious. But if things went as he planned, the hunters would become the hunted.

The youth in the bacta tank was slowly embraced by consciousness. He kept his eyes shut as he became aware of his immediate surroundings, and reached out with his main power to discover the lone watcher, the one who had remained to recover him, his master.

Palpatine allowed himself to briefly touch the discomfort of his new recruit, almost as a consolation. Kenobi had not understood, but here was a master that related to the pain of life and would be willing to accept Skywalker's failures. He was human, after all.

The youth twitched. The dark presence was oddly familiar in a way. He probed more closely then withdrew in sudden surprise. _Chancellor Palpatine?_

The Sith yielded a smile. _Yes, and no._

The youth tensed for a moment, then relaxed in the confidence that he was under real power, now. He was no longer straddling the fence; he embraced his full potential as an apprentice to, he was sure, a Sith lord.

Palpatine paused, then exited the room to leave him to contemplate his new position.

***

The youth felt a new evil.

He _was_ the new evil.

He smiled, but the dark pleasantry quickly died as the scar tissue stretched almost to the point of breaking open. A wry thought passed through his mind: he would look the part, as well, if he ever got out of the bacta tank alive. It was fortunate that he had managed to focus enough to keep his head mostly out of the pit.

He reached out for any more thoughts of solace from his new master.

Instead, through his bond that still had not been completely torn, he accidentally caught the attention of his old Master, far away. And winced. The grief that threatened to swell into a thick rage was overwhelming. For Kenobi, to lose an apprentice to darkness was far worse than to lose one to death. Accusation passed through the distance between them in an enraged wave. _Righteous anger, _thought Vader bitterly. He wouldn't have minded having his Master join him to exploit the anger of the dark side. But Kenobi was too much of a blind fool, too loyal to the light to look down and see the best way of dealing with things. _Blinding light,_ thought Vader. _So bright it prevents you from seeing anything else._

The analogy pleased him; he thought it befitting, and sent the thought to the hollowed Master…

…Who received the idea with anything but agreement, and shut his former Padawan from his mind, durasteel door slamming down, cutting their bond.

Vader created mocking mental laughter directed at the commissionless general, though he would no longer feel it. _Ha! Fool. Listen to the last name I once had. Skywalker. I shall walk the skies, I shall tread on the atmospheres of countless worlds and beat them into submission. I will make it so much more than they can possibly bear. I will turn on you and destroy you and all you've ever stood for. And when I am finished, there will be none left of your kind. Only me._

Satisfied with the declaration, he sank into sleep. 

Shallow, restless sleep.

***

Their round eyes were a deeper blue than the depths of any of Alderaan's oceans, though the little girl's would change in time.

The boy's mouth hung open in concentration as he tried to grasp his small round toes, hanging mysteriously in the air above him. His twin sister was content to lie not far away, watching him in his endeavors.

Their mother was seated on a chair next to the wide bed, gazing at both of them. To the casual observer, she was just inattentively looking on, but for one who knew her, her expression held a note of longing, of sorrow.

__

And right it should, Obi-Wan thought, standing by the window, Master Yoda beside him. "I don't want to let go of either one any more than you do, but I'll be there if he needs me."

"It doesn't seem right," she murmured, so low that Obi-Wan had to project some of the sound waves in his direction to make it out. "They deserve better than this."

Little Luke subconsciously felt the Force ripple and let out a long "a-a-a-a-a-h-h-h."

Leia, his sister, squealed at the noise and they both giggled.

Obi-Wan had recently been trying to rid himself of his cynicism, looking at the better aspects of life. He felt it was all he could do, under the circumstances. And with this new attitude, he had found something worth holding on to. At least Master Yoda approved, who was keeping silent and watching the twins, who were nearing six months.

Now he would keep an eye on the progeny of his apprentice, the ones who had unconsciously helped him with his discovery.

It was his duty; their mother was fading.

__

The Force operates in mysterious ways, he reminded himself. Perhaps she would heal; perhaps she would not. His view of the future grew hazier by the day. Emotional difficulties like this were sometimes so much harder to deal with than physical. But while he was concerned about her, he was not thinking of his own former instability.

Padmé turned to look at him. "You will take him tomorrow?"

He looked down at Luke. "Yes. To wait any longer presents a great risk."

"Leaving tomorrow I will be, as well," Yoda confirmed.

She nodded as if satisfied, but he saw through the diplomatic training. He closed his eyes, then laid a hand on her shoulder. "He'll be safe with me."

Her stare was vacant. That was what worried him.

***

The transport was filling rapidly by the time he arrived.

He glanced down at the child in his arms. Luke waved his hands restlessly, then sighed as Obi-Wan tried to pacify him through the Force.

He had taken care to disguise himself (perhaps as an excuse for some grooming), and change his identity card. His face had been all over the holos during the recent Clone Wars, to make things worse. He was less recognizable without a beard, and he had grown out his previously shorter hair long enough to pull back, dying it a dark brown along with his eyebrows. The shape of his nose had been altered slightly with subtle prosthetics, enough to make him appear different. To appear now as a Jedi was far too dangerous, but if word got out that there were two of them, and one a child…

He pushed the thought from his mind. His charge was far too receptive; Luke had somehow sensed his unease and started squirming again.

He jostled him a little as the line moved forward.

The transport was typical to the ones he had been in so far; not exactly all the comforts of home, but Obi-Wan had been trained to adjust to spartan conditions. It was Luke he was concerned about. He would not have chosen this means of transportation had it not been necessary to keep them both hidden from the Empire's wrath.

Luke had fallen asleep by the time Obi-Wan was assigned to his cabin, so he put his charge down on the pillow and settled in to wait out the infant's slumber.

***

Padmé was as close to satisfied as she'd ever be. She had discussed her situation with Bail Organa and he had agreed to assist her with Leia, and take over her parenting should the need arise. Leia was the daughter of a professional diplomat; he had assured her that the girl would be as well-trained as her mother, and would grow up a fine delegate, a convincing representative that could possibly assist him to counter the recent turn of events.

However, Padmé was still troubled by the fact that she had no otherworldly connection to her daughter like Anakin might have had, and would have no control should Leia unconsciously announce her presence to the rulers of the rising Empire. She had relayed these concerns to Obi-Wan, and he had dispelled them. Leia would mature with no knowledge of her abilities, and would not be found out.

But that didn't mean Padmé had to like it.

***

Luke woke up. It was cold and dark, and he became afraid. He was accustomed to the warm presence that he knew as Mother, and she was not here. Neither was his sister, another that he had a strong bond with. He did not know what had become of them. He wanted to see them again; he was so used to it. And he didn't see the other person, the man that had brought him here. His small mind was overwhelmed and he inhaled deeply to let out a burbling wail.

***

Obi-Wan woke with a start as Luke's cry registered, and he realized he'd dozed off. He leaned over and picked up the squirming little form lying not far off.

Luke's cries didn't subside.

Obi-Wan sighed and felt around in his bag for the infant formula he had taken along. Finding it, he withdrew the liquid and pushed the end of the canister into Luke's rosy mouth. He knew the baby was hungry, but not only for food.

"I'm the only companion you'll have for a little while," he whispered as Luke sucked away noisily, bathing in the attention and warming thoughts that Obi-Wan sent to him.

Luke finished and wrinkled up his features, almost looking like a miniature human version of Yoda. Obi-Wan smiled at the thought and gently began rubbing Luke's back. He had never played nanny before, and he was quite sure this would be the last time.

The pocket of air made its way up and Luke burped loudly, then giggled as if reading his caretaker's thoughts.

Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. "Are you finished?"

Luke responded by sighing again and going limp in his arms.

Learning nursery songs had never been a priority in his training, so the Jedi hummed an improvised tune, making sure the key was major, not wanting to unsettle the infant.

Luke yawned widely, his toothless mouth gaping. Obi-Wan thought of laying him back down on the mattress, then decided against it and leaned back against the wall, feeling the vibrations of the ship on one side and the warmth of the infant on the other.

***

The call for the meal was much sooner than Obi-Wan expected, jolting him out of his meditation. He blinked the gummy feeling out of his eyes and headed for the cafeteria with Luke in his arms. The mess hall was only half full; not many people wanted away from Alderaan, but some people, like him, suspected it would become a political target sooner or later, if not a military one.

Luke had not yet been weaned, so he watched his guardian eat curiously.

Obi-Wan caught the infant's eyes and they locked gazes for a moment.

A startling revelation occurred to him: here he was, a renowned general and Jedi Master, transporting the son of a Sith and senator to a pair of moisture farmers. He marveled at how ridiculous it all sounded when he put it into words. But the feeling faded at the truth of the situation. The twins were at peril, and so would the galaxy be if they were found. Luke and his sister were yet as clay, to be molded by whatever hands they happened upon.

__

I will be there, he promised silently. _I will protect you._ _I will wait until you are ready, then you will know the truth of it._

Luke stared back at him, as if believing every word.

Then the first test arrived.

Obi-Wan could not believe his misfortune. The security droid was an Imperial model. He hoped the Force was only testing him.

He released thoughts of panic as he exhaled, then focused on the moment and pictured his features pinching and drooping to form the face of an older man, and distorted Luke's features as well, just in case.

The security droid passed without alarm. Obi-Wan relaxed and let the visual pretense drop while Luke burbled with excitement. He had no idea of the danger, and thought it all fun that his guardian would suddenly change into an old man, then back again. Obi-Wan jostled him a bit, then finished his food.

Back to the cabin. He didn't want to spend any more time out in the open than necessary.

He sighed upon arriving; the cabin was just as he'd left it. Settling down, he opened himself up again to scan the transport.

Sentient after sentient had no idea of his relevance.

__

Good, he thought.

Luke wriggled and babbled loudly, amusing himself with his vocal cords.

The Master's eyes twinkled; he held Luke out with both arms, then gathered the Force around him and let go. Luke squealed delightedly as he levitated over the bed. Waving his pudgy arms, he babbled down at Obi-Wan, who promptly began to slowly rotate the floating child. He smiled and let Luke drop back into his arms, not far away. Luke squinted and yawned.

The Master settled back for meditation, the baby for sleep. 

***

Vader began his healing exercises.

At first, every movement brought pain as his taut skin protested the tension, but as the hours progressed, the bacta tank did as it was supposed to, and his muscles luxuriated in returned motion. He channeled any pain to fuel his anger, which he turned to use in the dark side.

It came more easily now that he had practiced in his dormant hours. His body might be scarred for life, but his mind was new in its onset against the galaxy.

At least Palpatine approved. But then, of course he would. He would approve of any course of action that was pursued with the dark side as an ally… 

Vader smiled grimly, stretching the skin.

***

The ship's shudder brought Obi-Wan back. He sat up straight, wondering why they had come out of hyperspace this early.

__

Pirates?

But why would pirates attack a simple refugee transport? There would be almost nothing to gain…unless they were here for slaves.

He drew in a deep breath and refocused, locating the area of the ship with the most disturbance. It was close to his cabin, where one of two main entrance ports was. Whoever it was, they were preparing to board.

He centred his focus upon the intruders. They moved like a single mind, intent on…on what? He couldn't say. But they were determined and grim. Not like pirates.

His heart sank. Imperial troops were the only likely answer, and would be intent on searching the transport.

Luke was awake, and restless. Obi-Wan calmed him with a few soothing thoughts, his mind working rapidly.

What was a possible way to avoid them? The Force-masking wouldn't work again; he couldn't hold it up that long. The intense concentration would wear him out after a few minutes. They would scan for life forms after the cabins had been emptied; he couldn't hide Luke inside the refresher. And he most certainly couldn't go out as if nothing was wrong.

Or could he?

He set his jaw, collected his things, and stuffed them back into the bag. His first priority was to protect them both from discovery. If he was positively identified as General Kenobi, the infant would be assumed as important to him. They knew he wasn't a family man.

But, he thought, a little convincing would assure them a continued safe passage to their destination. Yes. That would be difficult, but would work nicely.

He heard troops moving down the hall, commanding all the sentients to move to the mess hall for examination. He knew they wouldn't be enforcing retinal scans, fortunately; that would take far too long with so many refugees. This was likely a random search, to keep the public on their toes. And any hidden Jedi that might just have been foolish enough to take public transport.

He slung the bag over his shoulder and cradled Luke in the other arm, and exited the room. They were greeted by a mass of bodies, most excited interlopers, the rest orderly troops.

Obi-Wan had been ready the second he walked out the door. He carefully projected satisfying thoughts, that everything was in order, nothing was amiss, none of the refugees in his area were suspect, including him and Luke.

The troops passed without a hitch. Relief flooded through him, but he knew it wasn't over yet. 

The assembly in the mess hall was more orderly than he expected. He joined the end of a line, at the start of which was an Imperial officer checking IDs. 

He rooted around in his satchel and pulled out his new false identification, again thankful for the disguise Padmé had provided him with. The line moved fairly quickly and within fifteen minutes he was facing the officer. He held out his identification as per orders and received a suspicious look.

Obi-Wan blinked, looking bewildered. "I'm not the one you're looking for, I know that." He subtly waved his hand toward the officer, who appeared to be a young lieutenant.

The officer nodded. "You're not the one we're looking for. Stay at the other end of the room until you're notified that the search is over."

Obi-Wan complied. The Force was with him today, he knew. "We're fortunate," he whispered to Luke, not really knowing why he took such comfort in relaying messages to an infant.

Luke had been thoroughly roused by all the action around him and kicked for a moment.

Soothing thoughts. He had to focus on soothing thoughts, without broadcasting them to the galaxy. Fear was not an option, and it never had been. He knew how to deal with it, but this time was somehow different. He had on his hands the possible saviour or demise of the galaxy, one who he could only control by convincing thoughts, and even that didn't work on occasion. Luke was unpredictable, though it wasn't as if his father hadn't been as well, even as an adult.

He sighed despite himself. It had been those unanticipated actions that had brought about so much of this. If only he had seen it, he might have intercepted…

No. He couldn't dwell on the mistakes of his past. He had to be alert and ready for any present happenings.

A line of stormtroopers pushed past him, and would have knocked Luke to the floor had it not been for his quick reflexes. Luke fussed in his arms. Obi-Wan thought of Padmé and slipped the image gently into Luke's mind, and the infant quieted. 

The search was carried out and nothing suspicious was reportedly found. All passengers were ordered to return to their cabins for the jump back into hyperspace. He noted with lacking amusement that the captain sounded rather irked.
    
    ***

__

He was back.

The life-support system was a cause of annoyance to drag around, but he was glad to be out of the bacta tank, even if he would have still needed the treatment.

Realistically, he could spend his entire life in one and still not heal entirely. The thought was not pleasing, but he might as well make the most of what functions he had left.

Both arms and both legs were scheduled to be amputated, so severely had they been damaged. He was almost pleased with the thought of having four cybernetic limbs; they would not tire or cramp or bleed. And he had been promised a suit that would provide him with his missing functions.

He had been getting tired of floating in bacta, however; companionship was lacking. He had always had someone to talk to, to relay trust to, and now that was gone.

__

A necessary sacrifice, he told himself. _Attachment corrupts strength._

And he could no longer afford to have any weaknesses. Not now, when his future held so much. The only person he could trust was himself…

What of Padmé?

He squeezed his eyes shut. NO, his mind shouted. NO ATTACHMENTS!

None. She would be dead to him.


	2. Tatooine

Many thanks for the review, Maren!

Here's some more. Feedback is _still_ welcome, believe it or not.

Arid heat struck Obi-Wan's face as he exited the transport.

Perfect. Who would look for Luke here, at a moisture farm? It sounded insane, and that was the determining factor once again.

The streets swarmed with various alien species, less than a tenth human, he guessed. He had only ever been on Tatooine once, and that was a little over thirteen years ago…

__

Already, he thought, then corrected himself. It felt like an eternity. The last time he had been here, Qui-Gon had been alive, Padmé had been queen, and Anakin a boy of nine, picked up out of Mos Espa by the radical Jedi Master. A little over thirteen years.

Patched wounds reopened and his heart grew heavier as he gave Mos Eisley a sweeping look. _A dump if there ever was one,_ he decided.

Automatically, he pushed the lingering memories from his mind and focused on the present, on Luke.

He rented a squat-looking landspeeder from a pushy Jawa, and sped off down the streets. If the directions were true, the Lars homestead would not be far off once he reached the outskirts.

Luke was positioned on his lap and watched delightedly as the speeder accelerated in the open country.

"Oh, wonderful," murmured Obi-Wan. "He's thrill-seeking, too."

Luke giggled as he felt the vibrations, his head resting on Obi-Wan's breastbone.

They began passing odd-looking poles that stuck up out of the landscape, covered with antennae, wiring, and tubes. He eyed them as critically as he could with the speed they were reaching, and thought the poles decidedly took some part in moisture gathering, whatever the farmers called them.

He brought the landspeeder to a slowing halt close to a domed hut, climbed out with Luke, and searched for any signs of life. The desert wind was hot against his bare cheek.

A girl, maybe in her early twenties, looked out of the door, then leaned back in and shouted, "Owen!"

Obi-Wan's spirits lifted slightly. _The right farm, if there _is_ more than one. It hardly looks as if more than a few families could scratch out a living, out here._

Owen presently came out and greeted him cautiously. "Owen Lars."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The girl followed him out curiously. "Beru. I'm Owen's wife."

Owen nodded once. "I suppose this is Luke."

The infant gazed back up at him.

The three stood in uncomfortable silence for a minute.

"Shall we go inside?" Beru offered.

Obi-Wan followed her back inside with Owen, to meet Cliegg.

***

The old man was still getting around in his repulsor chair, his stump of a leg finally healed after a few years. Obi-Wan bowed low in greeting, and firmly shook Cliegg's offered hand.

"Maybe you can enlighten us on what's been going on, General," Cliegg grunted, leading them to the table and beckoning Obi-Wan to take a seat, "and why this youngster's here." The Lars family hadn't received much more information than the first name of the child that they had been willing to adopt.

Luke, still in Obi-Wan's arms, was silent as his wide eyes looked up at the patterned ceiling.

"Call me Ben. My commission's been resigned for some time now," said Obi-Wan, removing the now-itching contact lenses and the prosthetic nose bridge, "and not exactly by my own doing. However it may affect you out here, the days of the Republic are over; the Empire is firmly rooted."

"What about Anakin?" asked Owen. "Where is he now?"

Obi-Wan's gaze grew haunted as he shifted it over to the young moisture farmer. 

Owen winced. "I'm sorry—"

"No," Obi-Wan sighed, "don't be. Anakin's gone."

"How?" Beru ventured.

The Master closed his eyes for a moment. "He…turned on me. He's Darth Vader, now."

A quiet sense of pained shock filled the air. The Sith lord was already well-known of by everyone who owned a holoproj. He had not been seen yet, but had frequently been mentioned as the new right-hand man of Palpatine.

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, and continued. "Hide that from friends, from family. No one must know who Vader used to be. This is his son, Luke. Anakin never knew of him; that's why I'm bringing him into hiding. He has potential like his father did. If Luke is ever found out by the Empire…" He trailed off, unable to conclude his sentence.

"He won't be," Owen said firmly. "I'll never let that happen."

Obi-Wan turned a pensive look toward him, sensing a different sort of decisiveness behind Owen's words, then turned away to address them all. "I've decided I will also live on Tatooine, out in the wastelands. I'll be far from the heart of the Empire, and ready to assist with Luke, should the need arise."

He could almost hear the words coming from Owen's mouth: _We'll be fine on our own._

Cliegg nodded. "We'll give you a hand with establishing yourself."

Obi-Wan rose, and bowed. "Thank you. If you'll excuse me." He walked away, his hands tucked inside his robe, sensing a growing desire in the room for them to discuss a matter privately. He was sure Owen would have something to say about him sticking around.

***

Without her crutch, Vader's soul grew darker by the day. 

He was in turmoil. Memories like these were painful, utter agony. Falling into the pit did not compare. He had to eradicate the recollections if he wanted to live.

But the only way to live was to embrace the way that Sidious had introduced to him. And becoming of the dark side meant using one's pain and converting it to energy.

He would need pain to live. 

He would need the very thing that was killing him.

***

Obi-Wan had left Luke with his new guardians, and was now on his own.

The way he had wanted it, what he had promised himself after he had finished training Anakin.

Except he had not anticipated his stay to be so long as how it seemed it would be now. Still, time alone in the Jundland Wastes would give him a lengthy opportunity to extend himself into a deeper level of understanding, of knowing both himself and the Force, a level he'd always wanted to achieve.

During his temporary stay with Cliegg, Owen, and Beru, he studied the structure of their housing and asked Cliegg about some of the finer aspects of mud dwellings. Ridiculous as it felt, he knew he would need to create his home on his own. Hired help could always be traced, and he did not want to be found out, nor have anyone killed because of his own desires and necessities. And a lesser part of it was his own desire to create something that he knew would not fall apart, would not crumble before the wind.

Here he would stay. Leia had Padmé and Bail; Luke would have his aunt and uncle, as well as his father's Master. 

The future looked bleak for Obi-Wan. All he had left was the connection with the twins, and the hope of letting Luke know who he really was someday. If Owen would allow it.

That was what worried him. The moisture farmer seemed to be the kind of man who preferred limited horizons, somewhat unlike his father Cliegg. Luke would grow up naïve, to be sure. But if he had half of his father's natural curiosity, Obi-Wan would have no trouble whatsoever convincing him of his worth to the existence of the Order…and the freedom of the galaxy. And that was what mattered, first and last. Obi-Wan would die to ensure that Luke's future was that of a Jedi. Had Leia been in Luke's position, he would have expected the same from her, but now she was growing up far away, half across the galaxy. Even so, her influence would be great in the democratic world. Both the twins would put in considerable effort before this was all over. He wondered, for a moment, how long that would take.

But now, his duty was to protect Luke at all costs while maintaining his invisibility. That was going to be difficult.

He stared at the heap of soil before him that he had excavated near Beggar's Canyon, and beside it some rounded plastoid frames to spray the mud on. 

Ah, well. Might as well get to work while the early morning lasted. Only the most tenacious creatures could afford to work at midday on Tatooine, so blistering hot the binary suns became.

***

It had been a week, a long hard week of backbreaking toil, and now it was over. His new life began here and now. The convex top of the house rose out of the landscape, looking like a sandblasted rock.

He smiled grimly. This part of the fringes of the Dune Sea was frequented by the sand people called Tusken Raiders. That would ensure his invisibility, more than anything else. Even Owen had protested his decision. No one was so stupid as to move into Tusken territory. That was Obi-Wan's point exactly. 

Owen had just shaken his head and wondered aloud what possessed him to do such a thing. Obi-Wan's reply had been simple. The Force would protect him, but he belonged to the most hunted organization in all the known galaxy and would have to act accordingly. Owen had snorted skeptically.

So then this was it. He strode gravely into the isolated abode, casting a look at his meager furnishings.

The pinging sound of a projectile of some sort distracted him. He turned to cautiously look outside the small window. A few grains of sand from the ground turned to glass, slightly pitting the side of the new structure, and almost his face. He ducked and thought calmly, rapidly.

He smiled. Even if Owen did not prefer his company, the farmer had prepared him well. Or perhaps that was Owen's means of getting rid of him. But he could think about that later.

Moving near the open door, he filled his lungs with the gritty air. A horrible, menacing sound erupted from the little hut. In a blind panic, the small party of Tusken Raiders scurried from the cliff edge and mounted their nearby banthas. Only suicidal idiots would try to pick off a krayt dragon, even one small enough to fit inside the small dwelling that had come up suddenly. The Tuskens suspected magic was involved, somehow, and after the angry ghost attacking one of the camps a few years ago, they had been more cautious.

Obi-Wan closed the door and stretched out on the cot. He sank down into that deeper awareness inside him, and at the same time rose up outside himself. It was time to discover the real means by which he had failed his Padawan. He did not want to make the same mistakes with Luke. That could mean driving the galaxy into another destructive cycle that would most likely end up with all knowledge of the Order exterminated.

And though he did not want to, he plunged himself into the past two months of his life, in an effort to reap understanding.

__

***

"Where did he leave to?" Anakin wondered aloud.

Obi-Wan looked up at his apprentice disapprovingly. "You lost him? You were supposed to track him. He could be offworld by now!"

The pair were meeting at a previously set rendezvous somewhere in the lower levels of Coruscant, where Anakin had been assigned to report the movements of Darth Tyranus to his Master.

Instead of turning silently inward at such a scolding as he had normally done in the past, Anakin burst out in anger and tension. "He moved far too quickly! I lost him in a matter of minutes, Master. There were too many obstacles, distractions—"

"That's never stopped you before, Anakin," Obi-Wan cut him off.

Anakin's face flushed dark. "What's that_ supposed to mean?"_

His Master merely kept gazing at him with that steely glare.

The Padawan snorted. "I thought you had assigned me to this because you thought I could do it, that I could make it work."

"We're wasting time," Obi-Wan prompted curtly, and walked off quickly to the way he had come. Anakin followed hesitantly, his anger building.

Relations between Master and apprentice had grown even more tense these past months. Anakin had long had a growing suspicion that Obi-Wan knew about him and Padmé, which in turn made the Padawan even more defensive and frustrated.

Anakin wondered what Obi-Wan and the Council would do if suddenly Padmé was found to be pregnant.

Can't happen,_ he reassured himself. _We've taken all the precautions.

__

Still, Padmé was growing more and more distant every time they saw each other. Maybe it was the time they spent parted, he wondered? It had been so many months since he had seen her last… More likely my outbursts in her presence._ He didn't know what had possessed him to strike her that last time, but she had forgiven him. They still loved each other…or so he thought. She knew the monster in him was rising under some unnatural influence._

Then Anakin recalled his last visit with the Chancellor.

"You're welcome to come with me at any time, young Skywalker. I can see your feelings toward the Council, and your Master. Perhaps some time away from them would help."

__

And soon after, Palpatine had deemed the time right to unveil himself to Padawan Skywalker.

The offer still stood. Anakin's potential even had a name now.

Darth Vader.

__

Somehow, he took a perverse pleasure in imagining himself to be a Sith lord. Gone would be the days of blindly following every order his superiors gave him…especially Kenobi's.

He saw Obi-Wan's face flush with the heat rising from the molten pit below them, and felt his own cheeks color. But not just from the heat outside him.

Obi-Wan turned back to face Anakin. "We're nearly at the speeder I left…" He frowned. "Anakin, what's wrong?"

He senses it,_ a voice in Anakin said. _It's too late for you to turn back to the light now. Give in. Kenobi must die.

__

Anakin smiled coldly. "Nothing's wrong, Master. It's perfect."

Apprehension dawned in Kenobi's eyes. "Anakin—" He took an instinctive step back.

It was all Anakin needed. The trigger in his mind popped, such a small movement and yet so violent. He gathered the new power now available to him…and pushed mightily.

Obi-Wan received the sudden impact mid-torso without warning and was flung backwards to hit the floor gasping.

Vader removed his lightsaber from his belt, ignited it, and swung at Kenobi's legs.

But Obi-Wan, even winded, was still quick enough to evade him and came up with his own lightsaber in hand. "What do you think you're doing?" he breathed, obviously stunned.

"What I should have a long time ago."

Obi-Wan paled, suddenly cold despite the raging temperatures. His worst nightmare was playing out before his eyes. "Anakin…"

He looked malevolently down at his former Master. "Anakin Skywalker is dead." He swung; Kenobi parried. "I am Darth Vader."

Obi-Wan looked over their lightsaber lock to a face he had once known, but now was lost to him. As realization grew in him, he pulled away and composed himself into a ready stance, mentally as well as physically.

Vader snarled at him as he reached up and yanked his Padawan braid out of his head, carelessly tossing it into the pit of molten metal. A tiny trail of blood meandered from behind his ear.

Obi-Wan's expression did not waver as he waited for the attack.

It came violently. He knew his apprentice had mastered his swordsmanship with relative ease, but he had not been prepared for this. Vader came at him with an intricate, mind-boggling combination that he could only hope to deflect. 

But somehow he did, and held himself up for the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Darth Vader became agitated. No matter what he threw at the general, nothing really worked like he had planned. He knew Kenobi's weaknesses intimately; why did they now all of a sudden disappear?

Obi-Wan now began to shift into a half-defensive, half-offensive mode. Vader knew that he had accepted the turn of events, for now at least, and would work methodically to make sure his traitorous apprentice would never do any harm again, one way or another. But Vader had no intention of turning back, or dying.

They wove together, back and forth, in an eerie synchronization that held a certain dangerous beauty in the light of the situation. Thrusts were parried, turned aside. Old training techniques were combined with new movements in a fight that looked almost deliberate, but was anything else to the pair involved. It could not last.

Obi-Wan then felt the odds rise against him and chanced a flash of his concentration to the doorway behind him.

Dooku. Count Dooku was approaching. He fought against overwhelming waves of despair as another dark presence, more distant, revealed itself: Palpatine. The waves of desperation were joined by nausea at so much evil directed against him.

Then Vader stepped back, waiting.

Obi-Wan felt his neck hairs prickle as he rotated halfway, his back to the wall, and saw Count Dooku walking toward him from the corner of his eye.

Then he realized Vader wanted him to kill Tyranus, to remove the old man so he could take his place. And Obi-Wan had no choice but to do so if he wanted to go on living. 

He had to live. He had to help keep the Order alive. While even one Jedi lived, there was still hope. It was fortunate that he had trained excessively with lightsaber technique after his defeat on Geonosis, driving himself with the thought that he might once again face Dooku.

Tyranus raised his saber, and came in with a whirling attack.

Obi-Wan suddenly found new strength, and remembered what had gone wrong with their encounter on Geonosis. He hadn't moved there quickly enough, had brought up too lazily, had been there_ when he needed to be _here_…_

Vader stared at the duel as it stretched into fifteen minutes.

Tyranus watched in shock as Obi-Wan roundly deflected every attack he put out; his shock turned to fear and rage as Kenobi found the room to put the tip of his blade up into the Count's heart.

Vader looked on in a mixture of fear and evil delight as Tyranus collapsed on the floor, and as the Jedi swordmaster turned back to face him.

"We can end this together, Anakin," Kenobi prompted almost passively, readying himself as he saw the attack coming.

Vader came in a whirlwind. Kenobi was forced to spin around and he barely deflected a swipe that would have taken off his leg. 

If Vader didn't finish this now…he couldn't see beyond that, and the void frightened him. The void in Kenobi's eyes frightened him. He hated being frightened, and turned his fear into fuel.

And then their next lock revealed something to him. Shoulders pressed against each other's, their faces were brought close enough for him to see the tiny darker flecks of blue in Kenobi's irises, and to see the void was actually filled with something this time, though the void would have hurt the Jedi less.

Please_. The word burned into his mind from Obi-Wan._ You're still there, Anakin.There's still a chance for you to come back.

__

"NEVER!!!" Vader roared, swiping upward viciously.

Then he realized his mistake.

Obi-Wan dropped to the floor and spun his legs around in a rapid scissor kick at Vader's exposed ankles.

The new Sith tripped, stumbled…and tottered at the edge, waving his arms wildly, vainly.

Obi-Wan jumped up, sweat burning in his eyes, blindly snatched for his tunic…and missed.

"Where were you?" Vader snarled, his eyes burning hatred, as he fell.

Obi-Wan collapsed at the edge, looking down in horror as the molten metal claimed what had once been the closest thing he'd ever had to a son.

But he was given no time for his grief. Ranks of clonetroopers entered and began firing on him. He was just barely able to swing his lightsaber up in time, his hands slick with perspiration, and beat a hasty retreat, knowing Sidious lurked behind the doors.

Once outside, he gulped in the cool night air, running as far as his feet would carry him. Finally exhausted, he slumped down in an alley and was suddenly violently sick. The awful look that had been in his Padawan's eyes echoed through his mind, burning through him, eating away at him.

He stood shakily, one hand against the wall. He knew they would not chase after him; they had no need to. He was trapped, stranded on this planet. They knew it was only a matter of time before they caught up with him.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure if it was his sheer determination, or just the worst sense of dogged desperation that drove the spark of tenacity into existence, but he knew he would lead them to hell and back before they ever finally killed him.

He noticed the ventilation of this particular alley was lacking just before he passed out.

***

"Wake up," a voice whistled in his ear. He grimaced but made no move to open his eyes, though chances are he wouldn't have been able to sleep, propped up against a wall.

Whoever it was beside him was set to revive him. The strongest liquor he'd tasted in years splashed into his mouth. His eyes popped open and he sat up, spitting the vile stuff out onto the floor.

The Bith sitting next to him whistled in amusement, tapping his foot in time to the complicated rhythm of the jizz music coming from somewhere behind the wall.

He coughed, gasping for air, and shot a piercing glance at the alien. "What am I doing here?"

"You were lying out in the alley. Seemed to me you needed something in the way of aid."

"Thank you," he said, "but I can't stay here long."

The Bith seemed puzzled. "Why not? The team wanted to meet you. My brother said you reminded him of someone."

Obi-Wan flicked his gaze back over. "Reminded him, you say? Yes, that's exactly why I must leave."

"On the run?" The Bith frowned, the corners of his small mouth turning down. "All the more reason for you to get some rest. Or are you too wound up to accept a little hospitality? I'm Uael Kore."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm sorry, but I won't offer you my name. I have no wish to endanger you or your team."

The Bith peered at him curiously. "Endanger us how?"

"Possibly your lives." Obi-Wan pushed himself up, and wiped a small droplet of the liquor off his cheek. Focusing, he built himself up under shields. "You have no memory of me being here. Neither does your team. And you don't like that brand of liquor." He left Kore, who had a glazed look over his large black eyes.

***

Weeks had stretched on, seeming like years. He had barely come off Coruscant alive. It had been a few days shy of three months being pursued by the Empire while surviving on meager rations of food and water from quiet friends who were hardly better off than he was.

But at last he had taken a ride on the pirates' undercover ship, posing as a poverty-stricken refugee wishing to ride to Alderaan to see family, which wasn't incredibly far from the truth, giving the corsairs the credits he had accumulated from small donations. Shena Hinn and his gang of pirates had been sympathetic, for pirates, and he had been thankful for that. Young Kadeq had been a good friend, for the brief time they knew each other. Obi-Wan hoped the youngster had taken his advice to heart.

Where were you?

***

The question lingered in his mind, painful as a burning brand. Obi-Wan had given his apprentice all he had needed, save what he had needed most of all. His trust, and love.

And now there was no one for Obi-Wan to give these things to. He would likely not see Luke for years, until the boy was a teenager at least.

He wondered how he could forgive himself for creating the grip that was slowly strangling the Order, the only hope left for the galaxy.

Obi-Wan thought of his last night spent on Alderaan. Vader had contacted him, briefly, seemingly by accident. He had severed the Master-Padawan bond that they had carried between them for many years. Though their relationship had often been tight with friction, especially in the last few years, the bond had been a difficult one to break. But through the bond, Vader could find him. It had been his only choice.

And now here he was, bellowing like a krayt dragon to keep away Tuskens while the known galaxy tumbled to its doom. Never could he have predicted something like this to happen. But then, things didn't always turn out the way one imagined them to.

***

Five years passed by. Old Cliegg Lars died during an extreme heat wave that had threatened to take Luke, as well. But the boy pressed on with a hidden strength, much to Owen and Beru's surprise and relief.

Luke was a quick learner, eager to help out his uncle on the farm in any way he possibly could. After he turned five, he often accompanied Owen to Mos Eisley for the odd errands Owen had to carry out, and in the middle of such trips would watch in fascination and attempt to help as Owen strove to repair their landspeeder, as it had a tendency to break down every now and then.

The market opened early each morning at dawn in one of Mos Eisley's districts. Obi-Wan would occasionally make the trip to buy supplies and wander among the crowd. After five years of shaving, he had begun to let his beard grow again, and noticed that strands of gray were showing in his hair. He marveled that they hadn't made their appearance five years earlier. But he was in his early forties, now, and could only accept the newest onset of age.

He enjoyed losing himself in the bustling morning crowd from time to time, even though he never relaxed his alert mind.

An Ithorian was selling fresh produce by a street corner. He walked up.

"Have you had any narao melons lately?"

The Ithorian buzzed a negative. [But I do have a lovely selection from a different family over here.]

Obi-Wan inspected. "Yes, these will do, thank you."

***

Owen led Luke around in the bustling square. Normally he didn't take Luke out at such an early hour, but he preferred to get his buying done in the cooler hours of the day.

Luke trailed along behind him, trying to absorb everything at once.

Owen felt a tug at his tunic. "What is it?"

"Who's that, Uncle Owen?" Luke pointed across the square while still hanging on to his uncle's tunic, his insatiable curiousity rising up.

"Don't point, Luke. That's Ben Kenobi, a crazy old wizard that lives in the Jundland Wastes. I don't want to see you talking to him."

"Why not?"

"He'll put bad ideas into your head."

"He looks nice."

"Looks can fool you, sometimes."

Luke fell silent in thought, then piped up again: "Uncle Owen?"

"Yes?"

"Why does he live by himself?"

"Because he wants to."

"Why?"

Owen snorted in exasperation, not wanting to tell Luke, at least not for another ten years. "I don't know. It's just the way he is."

The boy looked as if he was going to ask why again, then thought better of it and tagged along, sneaking one more glance at the mysterious man.

To his surprise, Ben turned and looked at him, and winked.

Luke's eyes grew round, and he waved.

The man smiled back, then was swallowed up by the growing crowd.

***

Obi-Wan stared after Luke long after he had gone. How much the boyish face resembled Anakin's when they had first met. How widely innocent and curious his round blue eyes were, the mind behind them absorbing everything like a sponge. It was painful to see how stubbornly resistant Owen was, as if he could protect his charge against the whole Empire at once.

Still, Obi-Wan was glad that he had made a good first impression. That could go a long way, if only opportunity presented itself to him.

__

Would that be too much to ask? he thought.

***

Gaunt and ragged, the two Jedi ran down the levels of Nar Shaddaa, the Smugglers' Moon. Though the lower levels were among the least desirable places to visit in the galaxy, they provided a likely place to hide.

Likely, that is, from anyone but Darth Vader.

The Sith lord had dispatched an entire legion of stormtroopers, and went down with them to track down the Jedi.

They leaned against the dingy wall of a building, panting and exhausted, looking no better themselves. They had both lost their apprentices to the still-growing Empire and had finally been cornered as well.

"This is it," gasped Sharra, a slender female Togorian. 

Her companion, Garchi, a human male, nodded. "How many do you think we could take with us?"

"Don't know—let's find out."

"If he lets us." Garchi tipped his chin upwards. The silhouette of the Sith lord could be seen moving down towards them.

"We outnumber him."

"If he ever came alone. But he seems to favor overkill."

Sharra opened up to him and he to her, the pair forming a small battle meld. The Togorian female closed her eyes, remembering her young offspring still on her homeplanet. _Let my line prosper undiscovered._

The two stood together as one, in the last stand of the Jedi for many years to come.

***

He felt another disturbance, the first one in what seemed to be a long time. Though sickened, he congratulated his dead colleagues on leading Vader around for so long. It had been a month since the last killing. Now, as far as Obi-Wan knew, all that was left of the Order was him and Master Yoda, alone on Dagobah.

His private message receiver, his one-way means of communication with the galaxy, let out a short tone before translating and playing out the encoded message.

It was in Bail Organa's voice, pained more than his usual diplomat's front would allow.

"I will cut this message short for you, friend, due to your situation. I have some bad news. She was killed recently in mid-transit to her home planet to see family, but she left the young one here. I'm sorry; I know you were close acquaintances. Take care, my friend." He signed off with a gesture the Jedi had created out of necessity to replace the phrase "may the Force be with you".

The cryptic message cut out as Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands and closed his eyes. He couldn't help but wonder why a private yacht would be dragged out of hyperspace and attacked in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps Ana—no, Vader—was struggling with the separation. Perhaps Palpatine had dispatched someone to take care of the problem…

He let out a long, shuddering sigh, and thought of Leia, who had fortunately been left at home. He didn't have any doubts as to Organa's ability to raise her, but he wondered how she would turn out to be without her mother's influence, as both a diplomat and an adult, and if he'd ever see her again, to tell her who she really was.

But he had to focus his efforts on Luke at the time. It was physically impossible to train Leia, and any contact would present great danger to them both. He'd have to wait out the years.

He sighed and gazed out the window, to see a roiling mass of windblown sand approaching over the horizon.

__

Looks like a mother, he thought fuzzily, his mind blurred with the sudden onslaught of heavy sleepiness and sorrow combined. _I'd better batten down._

Curling up on his cot, he remembered the last time he had seen her.

__

***

It was the dawn of his last day on Naboo. He found her waiting in the sitting room with the twins asleep in her arms, staring out the window at the sunrise.

Shafts of light came into the room as the sun came over the mountains. He deliberately scuffed his feet on the floor a bit so she could hear him approaching. But she didn't smile warmly at him, as she once would have. Instead a hollow expression confronted him, disguised but not dispelled by the smile that only held recognition. But he knew she didn't mean any offense by it. Padmé didn't smile at anyone anymore the way she had. Sometimes Obi-Wan wondered what was the worse; failing your student and friend of ten years, or losing your only love. Of everyone in the galaxy, they were the two that had been struck the worst through Anakin.

And in that they found comfort together. In moments like these, they were not distinguished senators or prestigious generals, just two people remembering.

He sat down on the couch and met her eyes.

Padmé's faint smile faded. "Are you going to tell me it's going to be all right?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're too smart for that. But I wish I could."

They silently turned back to the rising sun. Anakin had loved this planet like none other, Obi-Wan remembered. There was a peace to be found here, a wild and beautiful solace. Padmé had illustrated those traits so often in her personality. Was that what Anakin had found in her? Had loved in her?

As if reading his mind, she sighed and closed her eyes. "He told me how much different it was here from Tatooine, how he thought everything was so soft instead of the sand."

"When was it?" he said quietly. "When did you realize it?"

Her eyes, open again, held a faraway look. "Remember the arena on Geonosis? We decided to fall in love then, when we were about to be brought in. You were already there, and the way you looked at us, I thought you had seen all of it."

"I had sensed something," he admitted, "but I didn't suspect so much, even though he had been blocking me."

"We got married when he escorted me back after the battle. I was sad for him, that his entire arm was gone, but he didn't seem to mind that much. He called it his invincible limb." A ghost of a smile flitted across her face at the memory, then faded. "How could someone so kind forgo all their hopes and dreams?" she whispered. "How could he leave everything he loved? I never saw it in him."

Obi-Wan looked down as he sensed Luke begin to wake up. "It was good that he had you, I know now…I wasn't there for him as much as I should have been. I left him to just follow along during the war; I listened to him less and less. He needed you, Padmé. Someone to talk to and give him the respect he needed."

"I didn't give him enough."

"I didn't give you enough time with him for that. You didn't even have enough time for a honeymoon, did you?"

"Well, we couldn't very well ask for a few months. Not in the middle of the war." She looked down at Luke, his blue eyes opening to gaze up at her. "And now, when I have all the time in the world to myself, we can't."

The chronometer hanging on the wall behind her caught his attention. "It's time for me to go."

Luke held her attention for another suspended moment, then she stood and let Obi-Wan take him. "He's just been fed; he'll be all right for another while."

Obi-Wan carefully held Luke up in front of him and looked into his eyes. "Perhaps someday I'll be able to tell you about your mother, how kind and beautiful she was, and maybe you'll be able to imagine her, or even remember."

A solitary tear trailed down Padmé's cheek.


	3. Close Encounters

Wow, I'm touched. I must say I didn't expect to get such wonderful reviews. Thank you to Maren, Fudge, and Princess-Kinky.

Here's another chapter. I hope I'll keep exciting you, Maren.

Owen and Luke had finished their errands, the elder of the two allowing his charge to bargain for him once or twice. Luke's eyes shone with the compliments one of the stallkeepers had given him on his newfound bartering skills, though Owen knew he could have bought the slab of meat for five credits less. But the sooner the boy learned, the better, he supposed.

Owen slung their purchases into the speeder and lifted Luke into the passenger seat. "We're late as it is. Aunt Beru will be worried."

Luke stared out into the distant Dune Sea. "Uncle Owen? Look out there."

Owen squinted into the desert. "I don't see anything, Luke. It's just your imagination."

"But there's a dark line out there. It could be—"

"Those are the low mountain ranges, far out there. You can see them clearly on some days." Owen started up the speeder.

"I don't think we should go yet," Luke protested.

Owen looked at him. "Why not?"

"It…it doesn't feel right," said Luke with an air of finality.

Owen sighed. "Luke, you can't always trust plain old feelings. People have gotten killed that way."

***

The moisture farmer regretted those words at the onslaught of the storm.

The huge clouds of frenzied particles of airborne sand began to eddy around them as Owen fixed the last scrap of cloth around the boy, covering every last visible bit of skin.

Luke peered out at his uncle through a pair of plasteel goggles as Owen adjusted his own. They crouched in the cockpit of the speeder beside a gargantuan cliff, their bought goods protected at their feet.

The wind began howling and ripping at them with sandblasting fingers as the cliff created an enormous amount of turbulence, though Owen knew it would be far worse out on the open plains just overhead.

Luke closed his eyes, his mind nearly overcome by fear, and his thoughts jumped at random to the man he had seen in the market that morning. He wondered where Ben was, and if he was in a like situation.

***

Obi-Wan sat in his small adobe, having tightened down the last loose end and awaiting the cessation of the violent storm.

__

Luke. He's caught outside. Anxiety seized Obi-Wan, pulling him out of his hazed grief; he pushed the worry away and, tightening his mental shields, reached out to Luke through the confusion of the storm with thoughts of comfort.

***

Luke relaxed, huddled in the smothering cloth with only a small filtered breathing tube, somehow knowing it was going to be all right. He stretched out his small hand and patted the back of his hunched-over uncle, trying to pass on some of the solace he was experiencing.

Owen looked up at him in some surprise.

"We're gonna be okay," yelled Luke over the howling winds.

***

Beru watched the storm anxiously, hoping Owen and Luke had stayed in Mos Eisley until the swirling mass of sand had blown over. It was already beginning to recede at the farm, the wind's shrieking growing quieter.

The door buzzer rang. Puzzled, she ran to answer it, wondering who else but Owen would be coming by at a time like this.

She slid the door open; a cloaked figure stumbled in. She quickly closed the door to keep the wind out and turned to face him as he threw his hood back.

Beru's eyes widened in apprehension as Ben's azure gaze met hers. "What…has anything happened?"

"It's all right," he reassured her. "I was wanting to check, to see if they had gotten home yet."

"Why?" she managed. "Do you know where they are?"

"They're out in the storm, but they're all right," he said gently. "It's just beginning to quiet, where they are."

She looked outside, then back at him. "If you know where they are now, why couldn't you before?"

He furrowed his brow. "There's a general sense of confusion that comes with storms like these that hazes my senses over; I couldn't tell where Luke was exactly for a while. But now that it's beginning to die down…they're about fifteen kilometers from here."

She blinked back a forming tear. _Ridiculous. It's just a storm, and they're all right; he said so…_ "Thank you for coming; I did want to know. Can I get you a drink, or supper perhaps?"

A slight smile played upon his lips. "A drink would be fine, thank you."

She invited him to follow her to the kitchen and poured him and herself a glass of water. The two busied themselves with small talk, Beru relating Luke's academic prowess, her maternal pride earning a wide smile from Ben. He commented on how the farm seemed to be holding up, and she added how well the season was going, despite occasional intrusions by Imperial troops. But then, that was routine around here.

Ben emptied his glass and set it down on the counter. "Beru, I came for another reason as well. I thought I would relay to you the message I received from Alderaan not too long ago."

The light in Beru's eyes faded as she watched Ben's expression grow bleak. "What is it?"

"Luke's mother was killed in an assault in mid-transit."

Beru's heart sank. "Padmé's dead?"

"Yes. And I don't believe the Empire is faultless." He paused. "You will keep this from Luke, won't you? He's still far too young to take in his family history."

"Of course. We haven't revealed anything like that yet."

He nodded, and furrowed his brow, then looked back up to her. "They've just arrived. Thank you for the drink; I'll be on my way."

She hesitated. "Do you want to take the back way? I don't have anything against you, but Owen might be upset…and I don't want Luke to see that more often than he needs to."

Ben nodded understandingly. "Of course. I don't wish to interfere."

Beru sighed. "If I had my way, you'd be welcome here, but you've seen how Owen is. Come this way."

Unfortunately, Beru had failed to remember that Owen never used the front entrance when coming in with supplies. The utilitarian back door suited those purposes far better. So as Ben shrugged on his robe and bid Beru farewell, the door slid open.

Owen nearly dropped the crate he was carrying, along with his jaw. "You…"

Luke peered around his uncle and his eyes rounded in delight.

Ben grimly bowed to the whole family. "If you will excuse me."

Owen stepped back as the Jedi passed by, not seeing the quick smile Ben exchanged with Luke. Once the Master had gone, Owen set the crate down and rounded on Beru. "What was he doing here?"

"He merely came to see if you and Luke had returned safely," she reprimanded him quietly. "He was looking out for you and Luke, Owen, and going out of his way to do it, too."

Luke clung to Owen's leg. "I like him. I think he's nice."

Beru smiled affectionately at Luke and took his hand. "Luke, dear, there's something I need to talk with your uncle about in private, all right?"

The boy nodded and ran off to his room.

Beru faced her husband again. "Owen, she's dead."

He looked taken aback. "What? Who's dead?"

"Padmé was killed recently. Ben said it was an assault on her transport."

Owen's eyes flashed. "And how does he know? Did he feel it? Did he just _know?_"

"He received a message from Alderaan. Owen—" She broke off as a single tear coursed down her tanned cheek. "She's _dead._ Does that mean nothing to you?"

His look softened. "Of course it does. You know that. It's just—"

She cut him off angrily. "Would you ever listen to anything he says? He's a very wise man, almost always right, you know."

"What bothers me is that if he told Luke it was going to rain tomorrow, the boy would believe him. Beru, he's dangerous. I don't want Luke getting involved in these things. His life's already at risk as it is."

"But it's not worth it," she stated firmly, "if you don't allow him to live a little."

"Beru…" Owen tried, but she turned away and walked off to the kitchen.

***

"Easy now," Shena Hinn grated as _Vendetta's Companion_ slowly sidled up to the captured vessel. The boarding umbilical stretched out, closing over the defenseless ship's hatch.

The pirates cheered, lining up to board, young Kadeq among them. Now fourteen, the captain's son toted an excessively illegal blaster rifle, with which he was a dead shot.

The hatch was blown open, and some of the pirates poured in with their captain, not bothering to wait for the smoke to recede.

Kadeq, with the ones that stayed behind, tensed when he heard screams coming from the passage, and a strange electronic throbbing hum. "Something's wrong," he muttered.

Ignoring him, the rest ran to join the crew, expecting rich plunder, from the size of the vessel.

Kadeq, now alone, watched in horror as Narha, his father's Whiphid bodyguard, fell dead from the clearing cloud of smoke. A blood-red light illuminated the haze. His heart beating wildly, he backed off as a loud wheezing emanated from the darkened passage, and he heard his father's cut-off cry.

"Dad," he whispered, and hid around the corner, shaking with fear. Something had gone horribly wrong.

Footsteps beat the floor, as loud in his ears as his pulsing heart. He cringed, his lekku twitching.

An eternity of nothing but the harsh breathing filled his ears. He closed his eyes.

A deep mechanical voice filled the air as the footsteps stopped just short of the corner. "I've been looking for you."

__

For me? thought Kadeq, wondering why in all the nine hells of Kessel—

"Yes, you," the chilling voice said, to Kadeq's horror. "Do you know why?" 

Kadeq's memory led him to a day, five years ago, when he had read the message that a hitchhiker had given him.

__

Kadeq. This is very important, so I want you to read carefully, and keep this message secret. Remember when we looked at someone and could tell whether they were hungry or not? Very few sentients have that sort of ability…

He wondered if the man around the corner was one of those sentients.

__

I want you to keep it secret from now on, from everyone who doesn't know about it so far…You will understand why, someday, Kadeq.

Yes, I understand now, thought Kadeq, fervently wishing Orlan were here. _He wants me because of what I have. But what _do_ I have?_

Was it in the message? He tried to remember.

__

Goodbye, and may the Force be with you.

The Force. The thing he had heard about in the holodocumentary about Jedi.

"Yes," rumbled the voice. "You understand. Now come out; you have nothing to fear."

Kadeq swallowed hard, and steeled himself to step out.

He instantly recognized the tall black masked figure from the holoprojector.

__

Darth Vader. Here. And he wants me.

"You killed my father," Kadeq hissed, momentarily forgetting his fragile position.

"Come with me," Vader said. "I will teach you about these feelings you learned."

Kadeq eyed him warily. "Why should I? To kill people? To destroy families? I'd never do that."

"A pirate with a conscience, now?" Vader taunted. "Perhaps I should kill you like I killed your father."

Kadeq raised his rifle and fired. And watched in shock as the bolt deflected off Vader's outstretched hand, pitting the wall. He poured out more fire, watching in disbelief as the same thing happened.

Vader finally flicked his fingers, tearing the rifle out of Kadeq's grasp. "You have much to learn."

In a rage, flinging aside his fear, Kadeq charged at Vader, coming so close to pounding out his anger on the Sith lord's chest panel when an invisible hand smashed against his face and moved down to his throat.

"Unfortunately," said Vader, dispassionately watching the young Twi'lek kick frantically, trying to pry the fatal grip from his neck, "this is your last lesson."

With a shudder, Kadeq went limp.

Vader tossed the rifle aside and strode back into his ship.

***

Bare minutes later, the previously captive vessel pulled away, hidden weapons bristling from the hull and marking a weak point on _Vendetta's Companion._

Pricks of light pinpointed the nuclear reactor; the _Companion _lit up in a brief flash, and all there was remaining were atoms scattered into space to mark an atrocity.

***

He was out for a walk. The twin suns were setting in an orange glow when the distant disturbance washed over him, uprooting a memory.

__

Kadeq?

Obi-Wan stopped his steady pace and stared out into the sky. Vader had found him, and now the young Twi'lek was gone.

Lives were disappearing with each passing day. His heart heavy, he kept on, his home less than a kilometer away now.

Something sounding like a cut-off gurgle came from behind a dune. He paused, reaching out carefully and listening.

A life-form of some sort lay on the other side of the mound of sand. Obi-Wan looked over the wind-sharpened edge of the dune carefully, and his eyes widened.

A Jawa lay on the sand, one of its arms terminating in a fresh-looking stump. It emitted another high-pitched groan, and froze when it heard Obi-Wan coming around the dune.

Sharp glowing eyes shone out of the hood, widened with pain, peering suspiciously at him as he approached. _Well, this is one life I have the ability to save, if he'll let me._

He spread out his hands. "Easy. I'm not going to hurt you. Do you want help?"

The Jawa paused, then rattled off a response.

Obi-Wan had looked into the language a bit in the markets, finding at least a basic knowledge of the tongue necessary for bartering. From what he had gathered now, the Jawa was male, and indeed in need of aid, though reluctant to admit it. "My home isn't far off, and I have a med kit."

After another dubious glare, the Jawa consented and attempted to haul himself up. Obi-Wan gave him a subtle boost with the Force. Surprised at his new-found strength, the Jawa held his arm close to his side and began to walk, then collapsed in the sand.

Obi-Wan noticed blood seeping from numerous wounds, and scooped the diminutive creature up in his arms.

The Jawa chattered insistently, but Obi-Wan didn't let him down until they reached the Master's residence.

Laying the Jawa down on his bedding, he nearly called the medkit to him using telekinesis, but realized word would spread fast. So he dragged a stool over and took it off the high shelf with his hands.

"Painkiller?" he asked, holding up a syringe, which also had some sedative in it.

The Jawa held out his uninjured arm half-reluctantly, reeling out a long stream of complaints that ended with his name, Korhi. He paused, then asked. "_Ukig nan-nochuk?_" 

"Call me Ben," Obi-Wan replied, laying out some universal synthflesh. "This won't look like your skin, but it'll have to do for now."

Korhi asked him what he wanted in payment.

Obi-Wan smiled and shook his head. "I don't want anything. Just keep me and this place a secret, is all."

Korhi blinked, puzzled, and said he had some power cells.

"I told you, I don't need anything except for your silence." He finished dressing the stump and watched the Jawa fall asleep.

***

It was a good two hours before he heard Korhi begin chattering away again, complaining about the anesthetic while he hauled himself off the bed, though Obi-Wan thought he probably would have fallen asleep anyway. "Do you know where your sandcrawler is?"

Korhi responded with an affirmative.

"I'm sorry; I don't have a speeder, but I can give you some supplies for on the way. Do you have a weapon?"

The Jawa's hand pushed aside the hem of his cloak, revealing what to humans would be a small hold-out blaster, but powerful nevertheless.

Obi-Wan nodded and handed Korhi a waterbottle. "Take it, and farewell."

Korhi jabbered on as he walked out the door, still complaining about the sedative and wondering why this brain-dead human would refuse such a good offer; after all, he did have three power cells that could keep the largest droid on the market going for at least a year without a recharge…

Obi-Wan shook his head as he watched the Jawa meander off into the distance. There was just no pleasing some sentients.

***

He watched time flow by, occasionally marveling at the speed it tirelessly traveled. Luke grew older. _He _grew older. It had been another five years; Luke would soon be eleven years old, and Obi-Wan forty-eight.

__

A decade, he thought,_ is a long time, no matter how mercifully quickly it's passed._

And the last decade of his life had consisted largely of routine. He would always get up at dawn, eat a meager breakfast as he wasn't very hungry anymore in the morning, and head outside for a walk that would only take him back home some three hours later. These walks had usually been uneventful like everything else, except for the Jawa he had found five years ago.

Usually. But not today.

He felt something—no, some_one_—walking about the dunes like him. But he could feel the man's grim determination even from just a brief touch. The mind was unfamiliar, yet somehow he thought he had touched it before, a long time ago…

He looked over cautiously as the dune that separated them sloped down.

The back of a helmet of some sort moved away under the sunlight. A green helmet.

__

Green? he wondered.

The helmet turned to a profile.

A Mandalorian helmet.

Suddenly he knew and ducked down behind the dune. No doubt the son had kept his father's equipment. Hopefully the growing heat would throw off any infrared sensors that the bounty hunter had under his impenetrable mask.

__

Just visually_ impenetrable,_ Obi-Wan reminded himself, and reached out hesitantly, trying to find who Boba Fett's prey was this time.

Relief flooded through him. _Not me._ _Though if it was, it would be Darth Vader hunting, not Boba Fett._ Still, it often paid to be careful. And it was good that Fett was oblivious to his presence on Tatooine, not to mention Obi-Wan's present close proximity. No doubt Boba Fett would forget all about his current hunt at the prospect of earning all the funds he would need for retirement. Bringing down a Jedi for the Empire was one thing, but Darth Vader would especially love to see his former Master broken on the floor.

__

I have to keep alive for Luke. That is something Vader will never see, vowed Obi-Wan, and silently slunk away from the prowling bounty hunter.

He, of course, had not sensed the small droid that he suddenly tripped over, sending him down to an inglorious landing on the sand.

He grunted and looked at the little domed, multi-wheeled droid. It chittered away at him, then said in quiet but well-rendered Basic, "What are you trying to do? He's looking for me! For me!"

Obi-Wan sighed and rolled over, bringing up his cowl to hide his features before the droid could get a look at them. "Who's looking for you?" A question that really didn't need an answer, he knew.

"The bounty hunter. Surely you saw him. Surely you did." Agitated, the droid wheeled back and forth.

"And why would he be looking for a diminutive droid such as yourself?" asked Obi-Wan curiously.

"Why should I tell you that? Why?" snapped the droid.

Obi-Wan resisted a sigh of exasperation. "Who do you belong to, then?"

"Jabba the Hutt. He is most displeased. Most displeased," the droid repeated. "My processing drives malfunctioned at a most unfortunate time. Most unfortunate. My calculations went awry, and now he blames me for his debt. He blames me!"

"And just what am I supposed to do about that?" Obi-Wan asked calmly, amused despite the imminent bounty hunter.

"Hide me! Hide me!"

"I have a mind to bring you back to Jabba," said Obi-Wan seriously. "It sounds like you are in need of repair."

"Repair isn't the half of it! Not the half of it!"

Obi-Wan did sigh this time, picked the palm-sized droid off the ground, and deactivated it. _Some peace and quiet. Not that I haven't been getting enough._

Still open, he sensed a now far away Fett's attention spike. _Oh, no. He was likely alerted to the droid's deactivation. And if I reactivate it, he'll have a second signal to work on._ He scattered the sand where he had made his fall, smoothing the ground again using the Force. Thinking he could use it for parts, and not wanting Jabba to scan its memory and find a way to identify him, Obi-Wan slipped the droid into his robe pocket and stealthily glided away, weaving around dunes and keeping low to the already burning ground, his robe dragging on the sand behind him. Using his greatest concentration, which was needed to both levitate and shield his use of the Force, he picked himself up and began to levitate bare centimeters off the ground, following his tracks coming there and erasing them as he progressed.

***

Boba Fett scanned the area for the signal, but produced nothing. He pushed away the slightest inkling of frustration, knowing it would impair his sharpness, and came to the spot where the signal had originated.

Nothing. The twenty-three year old tracker mentally emitted a curse and looked around, hoping to see something, anything.

Then he spotted it. Anyone with less experience might have missed the ever-so-faint trail, but it was there for him to see. He looked it over. The tiny droid's tracks had ended there, and the odd spread-out trail began. Almost as if someone had been hovering, dragging something wide and loose behind.

Checking for signs of life periodically, carefully, Fett followed the trail, losing it at times, and regaining it, once by sheer chance.

Then he lost it completely. Whatever had been dragging on the sand had lifted up, making a raised line of sand at the very end. Almost as if they had been dragging a wide broom behind them.

He glanced up and around. Shimmering waves of heat rose from the dunes, making it difficult to concentrate on the writhing horizon. He turned back, deciding the capture of the droid hadn't been worth that much anyway. His spare time was worth more than this.

***

Sweating heavily from the effort, Obi-Wan dropped to the ground panting, knowing he had finally lost the bounty hunter.

__

Fool, he thought, grimacing. _You careless fool, for turning off the droid. You should have known._

I'm getting old. I can feel it, past the heat.

Close to complete exhaustion, he dragged himself up to a standing position, swaying slightly, and made his way up the winding path to his home.

To collapse in the doorway.

***

It was taking shape. All according to _his _orders.

What a thrill it was, to give orders instead of always taking them. Always a slave to his Master's whim. Now, though he still had a master, he had control. Enough control to make his own Super Star Destroyer. A full eight kilometers long, the already forbidding skeleton was being patched over with metal plating and filled in. He had already decided: he was going to call her the _Executor._ A name with a pleasantly double meaning, befitting for the personal ship of Darth Vader.

Darth Vader, lord of the Sith. A name that implied control. A control that was so close to absolute. He was the chosen one. Hundreds of billions of lives, under his foot. He would have the power that had awaited him for so long.

And his master had told him there was something at an even grander scale on its way.

***

First he was aware of his heart pounding relentlessly, echoing in his throbbing head. And his breath, coming in and out raggedly.

And his tongue, parched and swollen against the roof of his mouth. He knew he was badly dehydrated, and if he didn't get some water soon…

He struggled to push himself up, but his arms gave way. His eyes fluttering open, Obi-Wan groggily scanned the room.

A waterbottle stood invitingly on the counter. Tauntingly. Knowing there really was no other way, he reached out, crooking his fingers, grasping the flask with his extended self.

Then as pain blossomed inside his head, his focus evaporated and the bottle toppled onto the floor, thankfully still closed. Grinding his teeth, he tried to ignore his agonized skull and reached out again. 

The bottle mercifully came, bumping along the floor and coming to a rest under his outstretched hand. He grasped it and pulled at the stopper with his teeth. It came loose and he drank gratefully. Shifting onto his side, he discovered something hard and lumpy between him and the floor.

The droid. He hoped he hadn't accidentally activated it. Fumbling with his robe, he withdrew the little robot with shaky hands and put it down on the floor inside his house, then picked himself up, grunting, still holding the almost-emptied waterbottle.

The small lump of metal didn't move or speak.

He sighed and staggered over to his bed, swiping another waterbottle off the counter on his way and finishing off the first.

His vision swimming, Obi-Wan relaxed and stretched himself out, and threw the empty waterbottle at the door's control panel with some help from the Force. It slid shut, as did his eyes.


	4. The Way of the Desert

More story for you! Thank you to all my reviewers (again)!

However, I seem to be in a bit of a dilemma. I've come up with two different endings for this fic--one of which really isn't an ending at all, rather the beginning of a connected story--but I want to know what you want. Majority rules, and you can let me know via review or my email here: adi @ death-star . com (carefully spaced to prevent any spammers or the like). Should I post the ending as a look from Obi-Wan's perspective as we carry into ANH and ultimately his death, or should I post my AU ending? Please let me know, because indecisiveness is a terrible, terrible thing--like what to wear today. :P

***

He had been searching. Searching for so long without a trace, without the slightest bit of a trail revealed. But he knew Kenobi lived. Every spare day Darth Vader had, he spent in some way or another searching for the elusive Master.

Because while Kenobi lived, the Jedi lived.

It puzzled him to no end. Despite the friction between them, he had known his Master well. Perhaps not his dreams or lifelong goals, but he had become very familiar with Kenobi's patterns of behavior, at least.

So why did those habits now disappear? Just like they had at their last duel…

He banned the memory from his mind, for now. It angered him too much, and he had to concentrate.

The mercenaries couldn't find him. The Emperor's Hands couldn't find him.

Darth Vader himself couldn't find him.

The trail had gone cold, Kenobi's signature wiped from the starlanes. Vader had thought he had felt a wisp of something just after he had killed the sensitive young Twi'lek along with the rest of the pirate band, but the feeling vanished as soon as he pursued it.

For all Vader knew, Kenobi was a living ghost, drifting through space and time to appear and fade away as he pleased, taunting the Sith lord, revealing his limits.

__

He was jealous. He still is, thought Vader. He was the Chosen One, and Kenobi wanted the power for himself. It was the only solution Vader could come up with. Either that, or the Force was hiding him.

But Vader wouldn't settle with the latter. If the Force was hiding Kenobi, the Force was with Kenobi. Which meant the Force was not with Vader, a concept that seemed impossible to him. _He was the Chosen One._ Of course the Force would be with him.

He considered grappling with the concept. It might have made sense, in another time, another place…

Another world.

Perhaps if the Force _was_ with Kenobi, it would protect the Master long enough for Kenobi to come to Vader. That sounded exactly like something the old fool would do, if he was given enough cover to make him falsely confident. And if Kenobi came to Vader, the Force would then be with Vader, so perhaps the Force would indirectly be with the Sith lord all along?

If Kenobi envied him, then he would reveal himself someday. Vader had only to settle in and wait. He would wait. His patience was that of a predator, hungered but knowing the flesh was on its way.

…He would wait.

***

The sky above was the bluest of blue. It might have reflected his eyes; his eyes might have reflected it. Thick, lush grass grew underfoot, unclipped and wild like the flowers lining the side of the shore. Reeds changed to red mud changed to a fine sand, and the water stretched to the horizon, meeting the sky in an almost indistinguishable line.

He smiled. _I am dreaming._

"A little more than that."

He turned to meet the familiar voice, and a pair of equally blue eyes met his.

Not only that; they were exactly the same. Obi-Wan stood before himself, his younger self from a time lost in all but memory. The long Padawan braid hung from behind his ear; Obi-Wan supposed this younger version to be a senior Padawan, judging by the length. Perhaps a couple of years over twenty.

"What is this?" he asked the younger one, whom he guessed to be a vision. "What exactly are you supposed to be?"

The Padawan smiled. Obi-Wan knew that whatever force there was behind those blue eyes had known he was going to ask that. "I am you, and more than you. I am what might have been, and what you might have seen before you, but was never meant to be."

He mentally sighed at the conundrum. _Just for once, could I get a straight answer?_ "Why do you refer to fate?"

"Because it has taken hold of both you and Anakin Skywalker. He has an important part to play."

He would not let this Padawan apparition distort his perception of the harsh reality. "Anakin Skywalker is dead."

"How can you be sure of anything?"

Obi-Wan found himself agreeing with the vision. It was impossible to second-guess the Force…if that was what was behind all this. "You are telling me that Anakin was meant to become Darth Vader. That is a speculation that I find difficult to embrace."

The Padawan before him merely smiled, an expression utterly filled with a mixture of sympathy and peace. "I won't try to force any belief on you. Because then you would not be truly believing. You are only asked to listen, and keep your mind open."

Obi-Wan did not find him reassuring, and wondered how much annoyance he had really caused Master Qui-Gon during his training. "But did Fate force Anakin to decide to turn his back on all he had believed in? On the Jedi Order?" He felt a fresh onset of pain. "On me?" He stared at what he had once been, and continued: "Or do you imply that our decisions themselves continually alter Fate, that it strives to come up with the best possible solution with what we give it?"

He had never before seen a more earnest expression. "We think you know what needs to be done."

Obi-Wan's lips parted in sheer incredulity at both the Padawan's words and his sudden dissipation. Within a few seconds the vision had scattered and blown away with the wind.

__

We think you know what needs to be done.

We? He wondered what the Padawan apparition had meant by "we". _The collective dead, perhaps?_

And why did "they" choose to appear as me in my Padawan years? Is there something I should be looking for that I had in my youth?

Obi-Wan sighed, dropping his speculations for now, and wandered down to the beach. The air smelled clean of the briny scent that often hung near the ocean. While he found that pleasant, the idea of clean drinking water appealed to him more now that he had spent an entire decade on Tatooine.

He pulled his boots and stockings off and let his bare feet cool in the lake's water. It was refreshingly cold, sending a shiver up his legs. He waded in until the water lapped at his kneecaps, and scooped some into his hands.

It poured down his throat; he could feel it going all the way down to his stomach. The water was pure and sweet. He sank to a kneeling position and bent over, drinking straight from the water, closing his eyes, but no matter how much he drank, he was still raging with thirst, his face hot.

Then he suddenly felt as if the world had turned underneath him. Water drizzled into his mouth steadily. Confused and disoriented, he opened his eyes, feeling pressure on his back.

He was lying down. He was awake, back in his hermitage.

Someone was pouring water down his throat.

Obi-Wan inhaled at the implications of this and began coughing, trying to sit up.

Whoever it was began jabbering at him to calm down, calm down, it was just a bad dream…

Obi-Wan shook his head and blinked a few times, and then looked into the glowing yellow eyes under the hood and recognized the Jawa standing beside him, holding his half-empty waterbottle. "K-Korhi? No, it was a good dream, you only surprised me…" What really surprised him now was that he recognized Korhi in particular even after five years, and what with all Jawas looking relatively the same…Perhaps it was the metallic cybernetic limb protruding from one of Korhi's sleeves.

He saw the light cast from the windows; it was late evening, less than half an hour before the first sun set. _I've been unconscious for quite a while._

Korhi shrugged, a distinctly human gesture he must have picked up in his tradings, and held up a metal cylinder, telling Obi-Wan he brought it in payment, and that it could power this house for at least a year…

Obi-Wan shook his head. "You don't owe me anything."

Korhi actually swore at him, and shoved the power cell onto Obi-Wan's lap, rattling off a stream of complaints, that humans were sometimes such lousy bargainers, wondering when would he ever learn…

"All right, all right, if that's how you feel about it." Obi-Wan shook his head and inspected the cell, more to quiet the Jawa than of his own curiousity.

Korhi, not about to be silenced, began describing the difficulties he had had in acquiring such a cell, that he hadn't been able to come across a functional one for these five years in all his scavengings, and had finally found one at an abandoned farmhouse. He had, in fact, found two of them, and would Ben be interested in trading the second one for the small droid that was lying by the door?

The droid. Obi-Wan had forgotten about it. "There's a tracer on the power switch, and this particular droid is being looked for by Jabba the Hutt."

The Jawa chortled, and said he could easily tackle a simple power tracer.

"Very well, we have a deal. Although I seem to be getting the better end of it."

"_Hikig,_" said Korhi, sounding excited, and almost tossed the second power cell onto his lap. "_Ukara morak!_"

"Yes. Thank you for reviving me." Obi-Wan only now realized his head was still throbbing a bit. "And farewell," he added as Korhi disappeared out his door.

__

Well. I never thought I'd be seeing him again. He winced and lowered himself back onto his bed, setting the power cells on the floor. Tipping the waterbottle upside down, he swallowed the last mouthfuls of water and cast it onto the floor as well, letting his mind wander.

__

Perhaps that's what they wished me to see. Whoever they_ are. Did they arrange for Korhi to come just now, to tell me he had not forgotten?…But then, such a memory isn't always a good thing. Especially if it's Darth Vader that holds to a memory._

But I will not forget Anakin Skywalker. Particularly not the part of him in Luke…

***

Tatooine's climate, though uncomfortable to many foreigners, was ideal for stargazing. The night sky was pitch-black as Luke trained the pair of macrobinoculars on one of the smaller constellations. He had a fascination with the heavens that most of his friends didn't understand.

Biggs did, of course. But right now his thoughts were occupied with something else as he crept up to his friend. "Luke. Do you see it?"

Luke was startled back down to earth. "What? See what?"

Biggs rolled his eyes, the effect accentuated by the soft moonlight that lit up the whites of his eyes strangely. "The rat. Where's the womp rat?"

"Oh. Right." Luke began to focus back in on the trench. "It's been grubbing around down there for the past ten minutes—oh."

"Oh what?"

"It's gone."

"Luuuuuke…"

"I'm sorry," Luke protested.

Biggs rolled his eyes again. "You said you'd keep an eye on it."

"I did! I mean…I _was_…oh, come on. We can find another one."

Biggs hefted the rifle that he had been toting. "We'd better. I want to get another one, and you said you'd help."

"Yeah, well, maybe we'll look for two of 'em, so I can shoot one too."

The boys looked into the trench in silence for a moment.

"How long is it gonna take, for us to find another two?" wondered Luke.

Biggs shook his head. "You'd better hope it's not gonna be long. Your uncle might realize you snuck out, then we're both gonna be in real deep—"

"What was that?" said Luke suddenly, cutting off his friend.

Biggs was annoyed; he had wanted to use the interesting word he had picked up off the street the other day. "What was what?"

"There was a noise. Down there." Luke trained his macrobinoculars on the trench floor. "It was kinda like a rustling."

"Maybe it was the womp rat." Biggs made a successful grab for the binoculars.

"Hey!" Luke complained. "I was looking!"

"Not anymore." Biggs squinted through the lenses. "I think I see something."

Luke tried to see down into the canyon himself. "Yeah, there's something moving. That dark blob there."

"There's lots of dark blobs."

"No, that one. Almost looks like…"

"It's a Jawa. Wonder what he's doing out here all by himself. Maybe he's hurt?" Biggs zoomed in. "Nope. He looks okay."

Luke snatched the binoculars back with a few protests from Biggs. "Lemme see. He's got something in his hand." A glint of moonlight gave away the object. "It's something metal."

"What is it?" asked Biggs, a little too loudly.

***

Korhi was still chattering away, softly complaining to himself about the conditions of bartering these days. Jawas generally traveled this way when they were alone or in a small group, for safety reasons, because the Tuskens didn't frequent this area; they only came once or twice a year to give sacrifices. Korhi had heard stories about this place. The Sand People believed it to be haunted by a ghost that had slaughtered an entire village in one night, leaving strange burn marks everywhere. They sacrificed some of their victims to appease the ghost every now and then, but other than those times they stayed clear of the area.

Korhi didn't believe in such nonsense, though. Some of his clan members who had seen the burn marks said they looked awfully like a laser beam had cut through the Tuskens, as the slashes had been precise and cauterized. Korhi's father, Kiniuk, said a long time ago he had given directions to a young human that carried one of those Jedi laser swords (Korhi was bent on dissecting one someday; the things sounded so very fascinating). The young man had wanted to know if Kiniuk had seen any Tuskens go by with prisoners, and Kiniuk had directed him accordingly. Korhi supposed it might have indirectly been his father's fault that the camp of Tuskens had died, but he didn't pity the slain desert savages. They were not so much to be pitied as to be feared.

Which was why he traveled with one hand constantly resting on the butt of his little blaster, the other hand holding the droid, chattering to himself in a hushed voice. But he stopped talking, stopped moving when he heard the faintest of sounds.

He drew his tiny blaster and swirled around, peering up to the top of the canyon. The noise had come from up there, he was sure.

***

Luke gasped and ducked behind a rock, pulling Biggs with him. "Shh. He's looking."

"Are you sure?"

"He turned around."

Biggs let slip a little giggle.

"Quiet," said Luke. "He's got a blaster or something."

"Really?" Biggs sobered somewhat. "Is he going to shoot?"

"How should I know? I'm not going to look again yet."

"What if he comes up and shoots us for the binoculars?"

"Don't be silly," Luke scoffed. "Jawas are nicer than that."

"How do you know?" Biggs baited. "Maybe they just act nice when they deal with people, but inside they're really thinking how they'll come into your house when you're asleep and kill you and walk out with all your droids and stuff…"

"Shut up," scowled Luke, a bit nervously. "It was your big mouth that made him turn around in the first place. If he's gonna shoot anyone, it's gonna be you."

Biggs grinned. "I was just kidding. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone that you got scared…"

"I'm not scared."

"…though I bet Deak and Fixer would really like to hear all about it."

"Shut up, I'm not scared." Luke glared at Biggs.

"Prove it."

"How?"

"Take another look." Biggs was still grinning. "Maybe the Jawa's still looking."

"Fine," said Luke. "I'm not scared. I'll take another look. And if he does shoot," Luke added, "I bet it'll hit you."

"Go on," said Biggs. "I'm waiting."

Scowling, Luke took up the macrobinoculars and crept up to the edge, holding them up to his eyes while Biggs looked on in sudden dead seriousness.

Luke's elbow slipped, and hit a loose rock. "Uh-oh."

***

Korhi whirled around again as the sound of a falling rock reached his ears. He heard the _clack-clack_ of the stone bumping down the side of the trench, then everything was still except for the small cloud of disturbed dust that disintegrated into the night air, spiraling off with the light breeze. He kept his shooting arm up, tense and alert to any movement, shifting his head from side to side…

He saw something in the corner of his right eye and fired.

***

The boys screeched simultaneously as the blaster bolt singed past them out into the sky, and scrabbled back to cover as another shot followed.

"You lost," Biggs gasped.

"Huh?"

"Your bet. You bet he was gonna hit me. Well, he didn't."

"But I didn't put anything on it. And," Luke proclaimed triumphantly, "you were scareder than I was."

"Was not."

"Yeah, you were. You screamed."

"You screamed, too."

"Well, you screamed louder. That makes you scareder." Luke grinned.

Biggs scowled deeply. "Does not."

Luke started laughing helplessly. Biggs suddenly joined him as the two wondered what it would've felt like to get shot.

***

Korhi holstered his blaster disgustedly down in the ravine as a loud scream reached him, followed by the sound of laughter. Probably just a couple of those farm kids. It was a good thing he hadn't been shooting to kill.

***

His tears made muddy streaks down his dusty face. Luke flicked them away with his fingers and gave one last giggle as Biggs struggled to sit up.

"That," snorted Biggs, "was really stupid."

"I couldn't help it. I knocked the rock down on accident." Luke grinned. "You still wanna shoot some womp rats?"

"Yup." Biggs slung the blast rifle across his shoulders by its strap. "Let's climb down there and see if there's anything."

"There won't be. The Jawa scared everything away."

"It wasn't the Jawa, it was your stupid rock."

"The Jawa was there before I even knocked it over."

Biggs shrugged. "Maybe there's still something down there anyway. C'mon. I'm going to check it out."

One part of the cliff sloped somewhat, the rock face giving the boys plenty of handholds as they climbed down. Biggs reached the bottom first and squinted into the shadowed areas. The moons gave the trench an eerie blue color.

Luke jumped the last few feet and brushed the dust from his tunic. "I don't see anything."

"You never looked." Biggs held the rifle ready and meandered down the trench.

"Wait for me," called Luke, breaking into a jog to catch up to his friend. They walked together around the bend that curved the ravine sharply to the left.

Suddenly the cliffs on either side of them fell away to a flatter landscape, the dunes rising farther away. The boys stopped and looked at the view silently.

Before them was a beaten-down circle of weathered cloth, wooden rods, and a few dented metal objects. Biggs began walking toward it, curious, but Luke suddenly reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Hey." Biggs wrested his sleeve from Luke's hand. "I want to take a look."

Luke's eyes were round, shining in the moonlight. "I don't like this place," he whispered, half to himself.

"Aw, come on. There's nothing here 'cept for a few junked-up pots." Biggs approached the camp wreckage and kicked one of the metal pots, scored from years of sandstorms.

Luke came cautiously closer. There was something about this place that made him feel afraid, as if he was being hunted by something. He gasped suddenly and cringed, flinching from his brief vision.

Biggs looked at him strangely. "What's the matter?"

Luke turned around and around, looking fearfully at the sandblasted items. "I thought I saw a blue light."

"There's nothing here. You just saw a reflection of the moons or something." Biggs kicked at a circular-cut piece of faded cloth. The edge looked singed all around, as if it had been cut by flame.

Luke found his gaze drawn to the three moons overhead. They were in a line tonight, the first one the largest, and the other two diminishing accordingly in size. They hung in the sky, cold and distant, directly over a tall cliff. He swallowed hard; the whole place gave him a dire feeling he'd never had before. It felt terrifyingly dark, despite the moons' bright glow. "I think I'm going back home."

"But we haven't gotten a womp rat yet."

Luke turned back to look at his friend. "Maybe next time. I don't feel so good."

Biggs sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll go, too." He stumbled over something on his first step and tripped.

Luke came over while he was scrambling up. "Biggs…what's that?"

They stared down at a white-bleached skull that grinned horrifically back up at them.

Biggs gaped at the death's-head. "Maybe you're right. I don't think I like this place, either."

***

It was a dark night. Obi-Wan could feel the lightlessness trying to snare his very soul, creeping through his house and reaching out for him.

So he focused on light, on the light cast from the glowing moons, on the lights installed in his power units—and on the light that resided within himself. Then the darkness diminished in power. Then it had no hold on him.

Finally there was the peace he had sought after for so long; it came to him during the darkest night he had ever known on Tatooine. It came despite the fact that he still didn't know what needed to be done. It came through the swirling malignancy; it was his eye in the hurricane, and he reveled in it.

__

Let tomorrow's burdens come with tomorrow. Tonight I forget. Tonight I will just be who I am, and nothing more.

There is a certain beauty to the desert, if one but takes the time to look for it.

Beauty lay directly outside his window, right out his door. He had but to glance out, and it waited for him. It was the only way he could define the spirit of the desert: _savage grace._ He rose from his cross-legged position on his bed, glad that he could still do it without the aid of the Force or his hands, and stepped quietly outside.

The moons cast a clear shadow at his back. He heard a voice rise out of the wilderness, and followed it, followed the path that his steps took him. Perhaps he was a crazy old hermit wandering aimlessly, perhaps he was out here for a reason. He favored the latter idea, and kept going. The cool dry air cleared his mind, and lent a crisp quality to the moonlight. His cloak swept the sand behind him, shifting it over his footprints.

His trail led him to the towering hoodoos, massive pillars of eroded rock that spread out at the top to form small plateaus, islands in the air supported by a thick column. Here on the hard-packed surface of the saltbeds he made almost no trail at all. He didn't know what his guide was, or if it even existed, but he knew he followed something, if not pure randomness.

Obi-Wan's eyes drifted from the starlight above to the ground before him, and he realized his feet were tracing a different set of tracks. Wide-spread tracks, made from the impact of a huge body on large clawed feet. He stopped to inspect one that stood out sharply in the moonlight. On the extended toes he could make out the patterning of scales. It had been a huge reptile of some sort. He didn't finish the line of thought, however, and kept going, coming toward a looming cliff with many enormous crevices and ravines furrowing into it.

An animal cry pierced the night stillness, made from a voice that carried a predatorial menace. He stopped in his tracks and considered the sound. It had been almost identical to the one he had learned to use to scare away curious Sand People.

Which meant a krayt dragon was nearby. Oddly enough, the fact didn't instill any fear in him; tonight he was beyond fear, perhaps dangerously so. Instead, a burning curiousity filled him. He wanted to see what a krayt dragon looked like. Oh, yes, he had seen a holo or two that Cliegg had shown him years ago, but holos always paled in comparison to reality, and now reality presented itself. He knew, deep inside, that he likely wasn't thinking straight, but the thought itself was irrelevant to him now. He wanted to see this krayt dragon, no matter how big or dangerous the creature might be.

Maybe he was going crazy, after all.

Obi-Wan reached out with his senses a bit to determine exactly where this dragon was. Another roaring scream ripped through the air, and he focused on one cavern in particular, and thought he saw a glint of scales. He walked closer.

An immense head swung out of the shadows, its yellow-brown scales gleaming like a precious metal, green eyes roving restlessly. The dragon let out a snort through its slitted nostrils.

He stared in fascination, rooted to the spot. The beast's head was two, maybe three times as big as he was, and the fangs extended to the length of his arm. It was said that the dragons carried valuable pearls somewhere within them. One of these pearls would be enough to buy a spaceship and supply a person with everything they needed for an entire year. Many was the legend pertaining to krayt dragons, and with one glance at the creature, he could see a truth in every one.

The cavernous mouth opened and the dragon lent a deafening bellow that echoed far away, likely frightening the wits out of any Tusken Raiders that were within a five-kilometer radius.

The Jedi Master stood stock-still, reaching out to sense the mind of this gargantuan reptile. He found a surprising amount of intelligence underneath the overwhelming current of predatorial instinct that drove the beast.

The krayt dragon took a few lumbering paces out of the cavern, and Obi-Wan saw a large extent of its body. He supposed he might have called it compact if the dragon had been a few times smaller; its midsection wasn't very elongated, but thick and muscular. The tail began as wide as the stomach and tapered off to a thorny point. Spikes stood out all along the dragon's spine. Then Obi-Wan felt his first misgivings as the dragon took another few paces in his direction.

The krayt dragon sensed something was amiss, but since it hunted by detecting motion, and the nearest living organism was not moving a muscle, it couldn't discern what was the problem, and became agitated, its tail thrashing from side to side.

Obi-Wan reached out soothingly and quieted the creature's mind. The dragon calmed down and snuffled inquisitively, coming even closer. Now the two were almost face-to-face, Obi-Wan getting a much closer inspection than he had hoped for. He found himself looking at the dragon's incredible teeth, how thick and long and sharp they were…

The krayt dragon raised its head a bit and Obi-Wan saw directly into its mouth. It inhaled in a rush of air and he closed his eyes instinctively as the dragon moaned right in his face, a vile wave of reptile breath washing over him. He resisted a grimace and opened his eyes again.

The dragon, head turned to a profile, was staring right back at him through one malachite eye. The fine hair on Obi-Wan's back raised as he looked into the deep pupil, awestruck at the shimmering beauty of its eye.

Snorting again, the dragon blinked, a transparent film sliding over its eye and back, and turned around to tread back to the cavern.

Obi-Wan began sweating despite the coolness of the night as he realized just how close his encounter with nature had been, and knew he would never forget his insane venture. Even more; he would treasure the memory. After all, he knew something like this would remain vivid no matter how many years passed.

It had been the strangest night of all, and curiously satisfying, as it were.

***

His meditation chamber in the Palace was dark, the dim lighting providing Darth Vader with his ideal atmosphere for focusing. He was deep in already, probing the nearby area for anything interesting, when he suddenly received a call from his master via the Force to come to the throne room.

Jolted out of his meditation, he stood and exited the chamber, sweeping past suddenly wide-awake guards on his way out. Vader rarely asked for an escort; he found that the mere sight of his imposing figure was enough to make any passers-by think he was carrying out a task of great importance. To them, Darth Vader was a dark masked terror that waited for anyone to err. He enjoyed the thought of his suit and mask taking on such a character, hiding and guarding the damaged and vulnerable body of Anakin Skywalker underneath. The body was almost comparable to a corpse; its primary, if not sole function was to encase the brain that carried out Darth Vader's every whim, the brain that carried Darth Vader himself. Vader did not exist in the heart, in the soul of Anakin Skywalker, simply because he could not. Every day, Vader sought to weaken Skywalker, to make the strength in his soul dwindle until it was a mere controllable spark. It could be no less than that; if Anakin died, Vader died with him, and that was a constant driving fear within the Sith lord. He had to both sustain and control Anakin, a difficult task, but one he had to undertake nevertheless.

His black cape swept behind him, leaving a malignant trail potent enough for even the least-gifted sensitive sentient to feel. And so his path took him to the throne room, the forbidding chamber of his master.

The doors opened before him, shrinking back like some frightened live thing. No one was in the throne room except for the Emperor and a man he vaguely recognized. He strode in to stand a meter back from the stairs, waiting for the Emperor to deign to turn and look upon him.

Palpatine's chair swiveled around slowly, and the yellow vulture-like eyes set in his ravaged face focused in on his servant. "Lord Vader. I wished for you to see the plans of the new Imperial battlestation." He waved one claw-like finger, and a massive holograph sprang from a projector at the side of the room.

The spherical station, though simple in outward appearance, was sinister in a way Vader could not quite put his finger on. He watched in silent appreciation as the holograph rotated three hundred sixty degrees, then dissolved into a three-dimensional wireframe blueprint, the only sound in the room coming from his mechanical breathing. After the holograph had rotated another revolution, his gaze dropped to the man standing behind the projector, and finally recognized him as Bevel Lemelisk, though the man seemed far younger than he had the last time Vader had seen him. Even so, Lemelisk still looked slightly eccentric.

"You remember our friend," the Emperor commented, feeling the recognition. "He constructed the plans for this Death Star shortly before the Clone Wars. Lemelisk will be overseeing the construction of the battlestation."

Lemelisk had an odd resigned look to him that Vader seldom saw in anyone the Emperor had direct contact with. Vader realized he was looking at a cloned version, likely the last in a series. No doubt the Emperor had already killed him several times. That would explain the faint flavor of apprehension the man carried with him.

"The Death Star. An appropriate designation," Vader said, half to himself. "Construction is ready to commence, then?"

The Emperor said nothing, allowing Lemelisk to respond.

"We have the materials standing by," he said, nervousness underlying his tone; understandably so. "I only await the command."

"Consider it given," Palpatine said, and watched the Death Star holo rotate once more before waving it off. "It will be the tool to subdue the galaxy to the true authority."

Vader remembered the indentation he had seen; no doubt some sort of superweapon. "What is its firing capacity?"

Lemelisk answered again. "It will possess enough firepower to destroy an entire planet with a single shot, my lord." This time his voice carried an excitement—a pride, rather, thought Vader. Lemelisk was evidently quite aware of his engineering genius; presumably the reason Palpatine had killed him so often. One had to be strict with arrogant subordinates, or they would run free as they pleased.

***

Obi-Wan rose later than usual the next morning because of his late night. He could vividly recall every detail of the magnificent krayt dragon, and almost had a desire to see it again.

__

No—I must restrict myself to only one fool's errand per decade, he thought wryly.

He could feel his body was ready for his usual morning walk, and so he started off on the trail after downing an entire waterbottle.

The suns were already high in the sky and the heat was rising; he knew he would have to make this walk shorter than usual if he didn't want to collapse from exhaustion again. He suspected next time he would not be so fortunate as to topple over right in his own doorway.

The waves of heat heightened a putrid stench that reached his nostrils; he grimaced but kept walking, wondering what kind of a rotting carcass would produce such a horrific smell.

His answer lay just around the corner of the looming cliffs. The same krayt dragon he had seen the night before lay sprawled out over the rocks, its head smashed and bloodied.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened in horror at the sight. He stepped hesitantly closer to the massive head, and saw some burn marks near the top of the head. Someone had attacked the beast with something akin to a cutting torch. _But why?_ he wondered, circling the huge cadaver, feeling a heavy sorrow.

Then he knew as he came within view of its abdomen, which had been torn open and ravaged. Someone had been after the pearls, and had been willing to risk their lives to attain such riches. They had had no regard to the price that the dragon had had to pay for them.

He walked back to the head, transfixed with grief. It wasn't the blood and ichor strewn around that disturbed him so much as the greedy killing of the majestic creature. The beast's demise was such a striking analogy to the Order, and his own life, thus far. His soul had been killed and pillaged, left to wither. But his spirit had remained strong; it was the only thing keeping his head out of the water.

His hand reached out to touch the dragon's muzzle. The edges of the scales were rough, but their surfaces were smooth and ridged, almost in the manner of fingernails. He stroked one several times, as if in sympathy for the creature, then left, knowing the memory of the night before would always be haunted by the remains of the brutality he had seen.

It seemed that everything he came into contact with was destroyed.


	5. Embrace of the Force

Shoutouts (in no particular order):

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Princess-Kinky: Here is more!!!!

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Freakazoid: Huzzah! I love it when I can make people weep. I'm very glad you liked the Luke-Biggs scene—I sort of added it on a whim to show their developing friendship that stretches into the opening scene of this chapter.

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ewan's girl: Thank you so much for your reviews!!! Very kind. And about following into ANH…well, you'll see.

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Just me: Here's more for you, too!

The last post of this fic!!!!!!! Wow. I actually began writing this in my spare time a couple of years ago, but only recently developed and edited it into what you see here. My original ten pages grew into about fifty-five…not bad, really.

Ah, yes…an explanation of what's up with the suggested AU ending is at the end of this chapter. But don't skip the text in between, even though this chappie is about twice as long as the others. I didn't wish to split it, because it's our novelization of ANH up to the point where Obi-Wan dies. It may or may not be good…but read it anyway. It also may or may not be completely accurate; while Jandalf and I have seen ANH numerous times, neither of us actually owns a copy of it, so we took the dialogue and scene description from the fourth draft of the script that I found online. This first scene with Luke and Biggs is actually in that draft of the script, and so we decided to add some things, and subtract others.

Keep in mind, this is only our representation…no copyright infringement intended whatsoever!!! Though you probably already knew that.

We hunger for feedback, as usual.

Jandalf: Feedback is YUMMY.

Audreidi: Right…So here's the somewhat epic end, which is really _only the beginning_…

~~~***~~~

The years came and went again, leaving fading memories to recess into the far reaches of the mind. But Luke didn't have many memories that he needed to lose, yet. He was twenty years old now, and hardly looked it. There was still a very boyish quality about him, something that reflected his inexperience. For that reason, his curiousity and spirit of adventure were still insatiable, so when his longtime friend Biggs came back for a visit from the Academy, Luke wanted to absorb as much knowledge as he could from him. Owen had said Luke wouldn't be going to the Academy for at least another season, far too long for the young man.

However, as the pair walked leisurely around Anchorhead, Biggs occasionally taking a sip from the malt brew he had in one hand, Luke was doing most of the talking. He was deeply involved in telling Biggs of one of the events he had missed, and gestured animatedly while talking.

"…so I cut off my power, shut down the afterburners and came in low on Deak's trail. I was so close I thought I was going to fry my instruments. As it was I busted up the Skyhopper pretty bad. Uncle Owen was pretty upset. He grounded me for the rest of the season. You should have been there…it was fantastic."

By the broad grin on Luke's face, Biggs could believe it, though the older man shook his head. "You ought to take it easy, Luke. You may be the hottest bush pilot this side of Mos Eisley, but those little Skyhoppers are dangerous. Keep it up, and one day…whammo. You're going to be nothing more than a dark spot on the down side of a canyon wall."

Luke grinned. "Look who's talking. Now that you've been around those giant starships, you're beginning to sound like my uncle. You've gotten soft in the city."

Biggs sighed and downed the last of his draught. "I've missed you, kid."

Luke shrugged. "Well, things haven't been the same since you left, Biggs. It's been so…quiet."

Luke was surprised then; the expression Biggs adopted was bordering on surreptitious, and he leaned closer to his friend to speak in a lower voice. "Luke, I didn't come back just to say goodbye…" He frowned. "I shouldn't tell you this, but you're the only one I can trust, and if I don't come back, I want somebody to know."

Luke's eyes widened. "What…what are you talking about?"

"I made some friends at the Academy." Biggs quirked a smile and lowered his voice to a near-whisper. "When our frigate goes to one of the central systems, we're going to jump ship and join the Alliance."

Luke was stunned, and forgot to keep his voice down. "Join the Rebellion? Are you kidding? How?"

Biggs shot him a glare after looking around quickly. "Quiet down, will you? You've got a mouth bigger than a meteor crater!"

"I'm sorry. I'm quiet." Luke whispered in his ear. "Listen how quiet I am…you can barely hear me…"

Biggs shook his head, some of his anger dissolving. "My friend has a friend on Bestine who might help us make contact."

"You're crazy. You could wander around forever trying to find them."

"I know it's a long shot, but if I don't find them I'll do what I can on my own. It's what we always talked about." Biggs' expression was possibly the most deadly serious Luke had ever seen from him. "Luke, I'm not going to wait for the Empire to draft me into service. The Rebellion is spreading and I want to be on the right side—the side I believe in."

Luke groaned miserably. "And I'm stuck here."

"I thought you were going to the Academy next term. You'll get your chance to get off this rock."

Luke snorted. "Not likely. I had to cancel my application. There's been a lot of unrest among the Sand People since you've left. They've even raided the outskirts of Anchorhead."

Biggs laughed. "Your uncle could hold off a whole colony of Sand People with one blaster."

"I know, but he's got enough vaporators going to make the place pay off. He needs me for just one more season. I can't leave him now."

"I feel for you, Luke, but you're going to have to learn what seems to be important or what really is important. What good is all your uncle's work if it's taken over by the Empire? You know they're starting to nationalize commerce in the central systems; it won't be long before your uncle is merely a tenant, slaving for the greater glory of the Empire."

Luke rolled his eyes. "It couldn't happen here. You said it yourself. The Empire won't bother with this rock."

Biggs shrugged. "Things always change."

"I wish I was going. Are you going to be around long?"

"No. I'm leaving in the morning."

"Then I guess I won't see you." Luke kicked at a stone lying in the middle of the street.

"Maybe someday." Biggs grinned. "I'll keep a lookout."

"Well, I'll be at the Academy next season…after that, who knows. I won't be drafted into the Imperial Starfleet, that's for sure." Luke looked right into his friend's face. "Take care of yourself. You'll always be the best friend I've got."

"So long, Luke." Biggs gave his friend one last smile, and headed toward the power station, leaving Luke behind to stare after him.

***

The Jawa sandcrawler slowly trundled across the sands. Korhi was filled with pride as he paced the bridge; his aging father, Kiniuk, was slowly handing the reins of command over to his son. Korhi had just made a deal with a couple of moisture farmers that he considered good. He had sold them two droids that the clan had recently discovered, a protocol droid and an astromech. Kiniuk had reprimanded him over the embarrassment of the other astromech's failure, but Korhi had taken it in stride and had replaced the blown motivator as soon as the sandcrawler had gotten back underway.

So good had his day been, his mood was hardly tarnished by the squad of stormtroopers that hailed the crawler and demanded it come to a stop for inspection. Upon sight of the squad, however, Korhi became somewhat uncertain. This group of troopers was far too large for a simple inspection; he suspected something else was underway.

The captain ordered all of the Jawas out of the crawler to line up on the sands. Indignant, Kiniuk was bent on hobbling over to the officer and giving him a piece of his mind, but Korhi held his father back and confronted the captain himself, asking what the problem seemed to be.

The captain ordered him to bring out a listing and description of every droid they had sold in the past three days.

Korhi was flabbergasted, but sent one of his subordinates into the crawler to retrieve the information. The captain inspected the datapad, and nodded to his troops. "The droids passed through here." Turning to Korhi, he demanded, "Who did you sell the protocol droid and the R2 unit to?"

Korhi's suspicions had proven accurate. Something was going on here, something big enough to make him posture himself rigidly and declare the Imperials had no business demanding something like that of a group of private traders.

So the captain had taken up his blaster rifle, and fired at Korhi's cybernetic arm. The blast took off most of the hand, and Korhi howled with pain, sitting suddenly down on the desert ground.

The captain had ordered him to answer once more, then he had his troops fire.

The clan, who had stood silently through the whole ordeal, collapsed in rows, some running away in panic but all mowed down by the blaster fire. Even Kiniuk.

Korhi shrieked in rage. He found no words in his vocabulary that could so vividly carry across the horrible anger and grief that burned within him. He was drawing his own weapon when the blasters caught him up in their fiery grip.

***

He had had a lot of time to think, over the years. They were years he used to rediscover life, love, and eventually himself. And now he could sense it was drawing to a close. Time was running out. It had been his enemy, then his friend, then his dearest love, and now it was urging him forward. And he knew, somehow, that soon he would have no use for Time…

But it accompanied him on his daily morning walk, as it always did, making the suns dawn over the horizon and letting him meander for a couple of hours, as was his way. He had grown so close to Time, that he had barely noticed it pass. _Both a curse and a blessing, I suppose,_ he thought, ruefully rubbing his beard, which had turned almost entirely white with age, as was the case with his hair, which had thinned dramatically besides.

Memory was the same, intertwined with Time and yet holding a different character. He had learned to look at the good memories, the time he had spent with Anakin and everyone else before the dark had taken hold.

He smiled. The usually oppressing air had a strange fresh quality about it today. He entertained fantasies of a winter storm blowing in, covering the landscape with a blanket of powdery snow, and he laughed at the thought. _We'd freeze to death if it got below 283 Kelvin,_ he told himself, knowing how most sentients' bodies adapted to a constant climate.

It was then that he noticed the bantha tracks running alongside his in the loose top layer of sand. Puzzled, he followed them. Banthas didn't often travel this way; it was the first time he'd seen tracks here in fifteen years. There were probably Tusken Raiders in the area.

Obi-Wan stretched out his senses. Sure enough, half a kilometer of desert presented a group of three or four, and they were oddly excited…

He hastened his pace, wondering what could have roused the Sand People so. He decided to probe the area more closely as he made his way forward.

A discovery. They had found something…_someone,_ he corrected upon closer scrutiny.

Suddenly a flash of alarm came to him from someone else.

__

Luke. What's he doing out here?

Obi-Wan now had to pick his way among the craggy terrain. Luke was down in the gorge, and his mental voice was silent, dormant. He suspected the boy had been knocked out, in all probability by the Tuskens, who were busily focusing their attention elsewhere at the moment.

He reached the slope that would lead him into the ravine, and opened his mouth and throat wide.

The horrible echoing bellow came even closer to that of a krayt dragon, now that he had seen and heard one first hand…and now that his protectiveness had arisen at the thought of Luke at the tender mercies of the Sand People. He sensed the Tuskens tense and scramble away in panic, though with a faint determination to return later and take another look at the mechanical thing they had found.

Obi-Wan sighed and put up his hood. It usually went up at this hour, as the suns grew hotter over the day and Obi-Wan grew older over the years.

There wasn't much down in the ravine—just a landspeeder, miscellaneous items tossed around carelessly, and a young man lying prone on the ground.

__

How he's grown. Though he still has much to learn. Obi-Wan suspected Luke's lessons to follow might become quite overwhelming, as they would now have to be performed very quickly. He knelt by the side of the boy, and stretched out a hand, his fingers lightly touching Luke's temples, using a Force technique to bring him back to consciousness.

Obi-Wan heard a barely perceptible warble, and pushed back his hood, peering into the little alcove where an astromech droid hid, chirping softly to itself.

He smiled. "Hello, there. Come here, my little friend. Don't be afraid."

Twittering curiously, the astromech hobbled out, burbling what Obi-Wan suspected was a question.

"Don't worry," he said, and gestured to Luke, who was beginning to stir. "He'll be all right."

Luke groaned and sat up, holding a hand to his aching head. "What happened?"

Obi-Wan could barely contain the joy that swelled inside him at seeing Luke alive…no, just _here,_ beside him_._ "Rest easy, son. You've had a busy day." _And it's about to get busier, I believe. _"You're fortunate you're still in one piece."

Luke's blue eyes widened in recognition; he had not forgotten the face of the man whom he had been so curious about for most of his life already. "Ben? Ben Kenobi? Boy, am I glad to see you."

Obi-Wan arched his eyebrows. "The Jundland Wastes are not to be traveled lightly. Tell me, young Luke, what brings you out this far?"

"Oh, this little droid." Luke looked exasperated, but somewhat impressed besides. "I think he's searching for his former master…I've never seen such devotion in a droid before. He claims to be the property of an Obi-Wan Kenobi. Is he a relative of yours? Do you know who he's talking about?" Luke asked hopefully.

Obi-Wan sank down onto a rock, a faraway look in his eyes. "Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan…now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time…a long time."

Luke seemed puzzled. "I think my uncle knew him. He said he was dead."

"Oh, he's not dead…not yet." _Well, close enough,_ he thought dryly.

Luke's face lit up. "You know him?"

"Well, of course, of course I know him." Obi-Wan smiled and put a finger to his breastbone, tapping once or twice. "He's me. I haven't gone by the name of Obi-Wan since, oh, before you were born." _The true Obi-Wan never left; it's just his private name that's come back to the public. Or at least to Luke and this droid._

"Then the droid does belong to you." Luke looked as if he was elated at solving an uncooperative mystery.

"Curious. I don't seem to recall ever owning a droid." He furrowed his brow, then suddenly rose his head to look at the overhanging cliffs. "I think we had better get indoors. The Sand People are easily startled, but they will soon be back, and in greater numbers."

Suddenly Luke blinked, remembering something. "Threepio…"

***

After recovering the protocol droid, who was every bit as prissy and pessimistic as Obi-Wan remembered him to be, Luke drove them all to Obi-Wan's house, following the Jedi's directions.

Luke looked around inside the weathered hovel curiously while conversing with his new-found friend. "No, my father didn't fight in the wars. He was a navigator on a spice freighter."

"That's what your uncle told you. He didn't hold with your father's ideals. Thought he should have stayed here, and not gotten involved."

"You fought in the Clone Wars?" Luke was rapt with interest.

"Yes, I was once a Jedi Knight the same as your father."

"I wish I'd known him." Somehow having a moisture farmer for an uncle didn't sound quite as exciting as a Jedi warrior for a father.

Obi-Wan nodded. "He was the best pilot in the galaxy, and a cunning warrior. I understand you've become quite a good pilot yourself." His eyes fixed on a point infinitely far away. "And he was a good friend. Which reminds me…" He rose to rummage around in an old trunk that sat by the wall, a decrepit piece of furniture but still functional. "I have something here for you. Your father wanted you to have this when you were old enough—" _Well, Anakin _would_ have, had he known of your existence,_ Obi-Wan thought— "but your uncle wouldn't allow it. He feared you might follow old Obi-Wan on some damned-fool idealistic crusade like your father did." Obi-Wan wore a wry smile as he came up with the object nestled in the palm of his hand. _And you would have, too, had I but asked._

See-Threepio somehow fidgeted and said to Luke, "Sir, if you'll not be needing me, I'll close down for a while."

Luke nodded absently. "Sure, go ahead." He accepted the lightsaber from Obi-Wan carefully. "What is it?"

"Your father's lightsaber. This is the weapon of a Jedi Knight. Not as clumsy or random as a blaster." He watched as Luke ignited the lightsaber, the long blue blade sliding out of the hilt. Fascinated, Luke experimentally swung it, testing its strange balance, while half-listening to Obi-Wan continue. "An elegant weapon for a more civilized time. For over a thousand generations the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Before the dark times, before the Empire."

Suddenly sobered, Luke extinguished the lightsaber, watching the beam shrink back down. "How did my father die?"

"A young Jedi named Darth Vader, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to evil, helped the Empire hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights. He betrayed and murdered your father. Now the Jedi are all but extinct. Vader was seduced by the dark side of the Force."

"The Force?"

"Well, the Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It's an energy field created by all living things," Obi-Wan explained, passing on the words he had heard from so many other Masters. "It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together."

Artoo-Detoo warbled from his position on the floor, bringing Obi-Wan's attention to him. "Now, let's see if we can't figure out what you are, my little friend. And where you come from."

Luke frowned. "I saw part of the message that he was…" He cut himself short as he saw the projection of the girl he had seen before, at home.

Obi-Wan sat back calmly. "I seem to have found it." _That face…that face could only belong to one person._

Leia's message began. "General Kenobi, years ago you served my father in the Clone Wars. Now he begs you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father's request to you in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and I'm afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of the Rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour." Then she spoke the words that had been rolling through Luke's head all night and all morning long. "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope."

Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat as she looked left and right, then the message faded away. He frowned deeply. _The survival of the Rebellion in my own house, and I'm not even supposed to be here…_

Luke had stars in his eyes, it was plain. Obi-Wan considered for a moment, then turned to his young charge. "You must learn the ways of the Force if you're to come with me to Alderaan."

Luke was taken aback, and laughed, a short quiet sound. "Alderaan? I'm not going to Alderaan. I've got to go home. It's late—I'm in for it as it is."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I need your help, Luke. She needs your help. I'm getting too old for this sort of thing."

Frustration was etched into Luke's features. "I can't get involved! I've got work to do! It's not that I like the Empire. I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. It's such a long way from here."

Obi-Wan merely raised an eyebrow. "That's your uncle talking."

Luke sighed. "My uncle. How am I ever going to explain this?"

"Learn about the Force, Luke."

But Luke wasn't quite listening. "Look, I can take you as far as Anchorhead. You can get a transport there to Mos Eisley or wherever you're going."

Obi-Wan nodded resignedly. "You must do what you feel is right, of course."

***

Both Obi-Wan and Luke knew the reception that awaited the former should Luke bring him to the Lars homestead. But despite this, they agreed to face it together, Obi-Wan quietly smiling at Luke's offer to bear the brunt of Owen's fury.

However, their discovery on the way sidetracked the plan somewhat.

Luke slowed the landspeeder to a stop before what remained of an enormous sandcrawler. Jumping over the side of the vehicle, he walked in astonishment among the smoldering wreckage and the bodies strewn across the sand. "It looks like Sand People did this, all right. Look, here are gaffi sticks, bantha tracks…it's just…I never heard of them hitting anything this big before."

Obi-Wan had already gotten himself out of the speeder and was inspecting the carnage. "They didn't. But we are meant to think they did. These tracks are side by side. Sand People always ride single file, to hide their numbers."

Recognition dawned across Luke's face as he saw the markings on the sandcrawler. "These are the same Jawas that sold us Artoo and Threepio."

"And these blast points," Obi-Wan gestured, "too accurate for Sand People. Only Imperial stormtroopers are so precise." _Well, more precise than Sand People, at any rate. Stormtroopers' visors look to be nearly opaque._ He stood, watching Luke complete the train of thought that had already brought a premonition of heavy dread within him.

Luke was plainly bewildered. "But why would Imperial troops want to slaughter Jawas?…Unless…" In a look of horrible comprehension, he turned back to the two droids, who were somberly looking on at the bodies after coming off the speeder. "If they traced the robots here, they may have learned who they sold them to…" Luke's words came faster. "And that would lead them…home!" He started for the landspeeder, sickened at the thought of what might have happened…

Obi-Wan raised a hand in alarm. "Wait, Luke! It's too dangerous."

But Luke was already whizzing off over the sand.

Obi-Wan lowered his head. _Death awaits him, in one form or another. I just hope the Imperials have left already, or I'll be going to Alderaan on my own…_

Sighing, he turned to look at the two droids while keeping his senses trained on Luke. _We might as well start cleaning this place up._

***

It wasn't very long before Luke returned. Obi-Wan had started a fire and he was piling the bodies of the stricken Jawas to the flame with Threepio's help, and among the dead he recognized one Jawa with a damaged metallic limb. _Oh, Korhi. _The added losses were weighing heavily on him when Luke skimmed back slowly and jumped out of the speeder.

Obi-Wan knew all too well the look of heavy realization on Luke's face that made the boy appear several years older, all at once. _They're dead. Owen…Beru…gone. _And he knew, too, the helpless burning rage behind the smothering sorrow. Luke was finding a new resolve. Obi-Wan only hoped he could redirect the youth's emotion before it was too late.

So he became the voice of reasoning comfort, hiding his own sorrow. "There's nothing you could have done, Luke, had you been there. You'd have been killed, too, and the droids would be in the hands of the Empire."

Luke suddenly felt a wave of wild abandon. "I want to come with you to Alderaan. There's nothing here for me, now. I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like my father."

__

Years. So many years have passed while I have been waiting to hear those words. Smiling gently, Obi-Wan and Luke loaded the droids back onto the speeder, and drove for Mos Eisley.

***

Mos Eisley, possibly the dingiest city on Tatooine, well-deserving of its reputation. _The armpit of the galaxy._ Obi-Wan remembered the expression well. Spacebums of all kinds would come to find relative refuge from any kind of pursuit, making the general crowd rough, not something a sentient would want to be caught in without a weapon of some sort by their side. Fortunately, Luke had Obi-Wan for that purpose, though he didn't know it.

"Mos Eisley spaceport," Obi-Wan said as they stood on the overhanging cliff, looking down at the city. "You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. We must be cautious." He looked pointedly at Luke, who gave him a determined smile.

***

Their progress into Mos Eisley was halted soon by several stormtroopers, one of whom was ranked a captain by the orange band on his shoulder.

"How long have you had these droids?" one of the troopers questioned Luke in a filtered voice, making the terse conversation rather more impersonal.

"About three or four seasons," Luke said nonchalantly, while managing to look concerned enough. Obi-Wan silently congratulated him on handling the situation.

"They're for sale, if you want them," added Obi-Wan.

The captain ignored the offer. "Let me see your identification," he ordered Luke, who began nervously fumbling for his ID card.

Obi-Wan reached out and touched all three minds to plant a suggestion. "You don't need to see his identification."

The captain relaxed. "We don't need to see his identification," he said, half directed to his two subordinates.

"These are not the droids you're looking for," continued Obi-Wan with a subtle wave of his hand.

The captain accepted this as well. "These are not the droids we're looking for."

"He can go about his business."

"You can go about your business," the captain confidently told Luke.

Obi-Wan smiled, a bit slyly, and waved his hand once more. "Move along."

The captain gestured for them to keep going. "Move along. Move along."

Luke, evidently relieved, pulled up beside the entrance to a rundown cantina and hopped out of the speeder.

A Jawa ran up and began running his hands over the speeder, jabbering greedily to himself before Luke shooed him away. "Go on, go on." He turned back to Obi-Wan, who was walking around. "I can't understand how we got by those troopers. I thought we were dead."

Ben smiled, a bit mischievously. "The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded. You will find it a powerful ally."

"Do you really think we're going to find a pilot here that'll take us to Alderaan?"

"Well, most of the best freighter pilots can be found here. Only watch your step," he added. "This place can be a little rough."

"I'm ready for anything." The way Luke carried himself, he evidently believed his words.

"Come along, Artoo," said Threepio, nervously following along behind his master.

***

Chalmun's cantina was in dire need of renovation, though one could hardly tell through the smoke-laden air. A large assortment of species filled the bar, some of kinds that Luke had never seen before, let alone heard of. Obi-Wan went in unhesitantly, finding an empty spot at the bar, and started immediately to talk to the less intoxicated sentients in his immediate area.

Luke looked over the room uncertainly. The bartender arrested his survey and growled, "We don't serve their kind here!"

"What?"

"Your droids. They'll have to wait outside. We don't want them here."

Luke glanced to Obi-Wan, who was now busily holding conversation with one of the gaudily-dressed pirates. Some of the creatures around the cantina were beginning to shoot unfriendly glares in Luke's direction, which made his decision quickly.

Luke turned to Threepio. "Listen, why don't you wait out by the speeder. We don't want any trouble."

"I heartily agree with you, sir." The two droids went back outside, easing the tension in the cantina's smoggy air.

Obi-Wan had discovered a potential candidate, and was glad he could understand Shyriiwook. The Wookiee had introduced himself as Chewbacca, and nodded, rumbling softly in his throat as he agreed to take Obi-Wan to his captain.

Luke had found a spot at the bar and casually sipped at his drink until a foul-smelling Aqualish butted in beside him, obviously drunk, and warbled out some slurred words. Luke tried to ignore him and turned back to his drink, but another sentient forced him back around.

"He doesn't like you," jeered Pondo Baba, poking a finger at Luke. The Aqualish, Dr. Evazan, gurgled in agreement.

"I'm sorry," Luke said, trying to turn back to his drink, which wasn't that good anyway.

"I don't like you either," continued Baba. "You just watch yourself. We're wanted men. I have the death sentence in twelve systems."

"I'll be careful, then," Luke assured him, by now somewhat nervous.

"You'll be dead," shouted Baba, and reached for his blaster.

Obi-Wan moved in beside Luke and spoke in a calm voice. "This little one isn't worth the effort. Come, let me buy you something."

Enraged, Pondo Baba lashed out, sending Luke careering backwards to crash against a table, knocking it over. He drew his weapon from the holster.

The bartender panicked in the background. "No blasters! No blasters!"

But Obi-Wan was already moving. With agility belying his age, he brought his lightsaber up and ignited it. In a flash Baba's severed arm lay on the floor. Obi-Wan slid his blade back into the hilt and clipped it back onto his belt, his neutral expression never changing. He moved to help Luke up, and when the two men came back to the bar a respectable amount of room was given for the older man. _I probably shouldn't have done that; word gets around quickly. But chances are I'll be gone by the time the rumor reaches Darth Vader._

Obi-Wan gestured to the huge Wookiee, who stood patiently by the bar. "This is Chewbacca. He's first mate on a ship that might suit our needs."

Luke was still in awe of the way Obi-Wan had decisively dealt with the situation, and numbly followed behind the Jedi and Wookiee on the way to his destiny.

Chewbacca led them to the back of the room and slid into a booth beside the man already sitting there, who lounged against the wall, eyeing his potential customers indolently, though there was a faint glimmer of sharpness under the easy-going mask. He leaned forward, bringing his elbows onto the table, looking at them expectantly.

"Han Solo. I'm captain of the _Millennium Falcon._ Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system."

"Yes, indeed," Obi-Wan replied. "If it's a fast ship."

Captain Solo cocked an eyebrow, a smile spreading across his face that was inconspicuously sardonic. "Fast ship? You've never heard of the _Millennium Falcon_?"

Obi-Wan matched his expression, and thought, _I should have expected this. Even if he is spouting a vain lie, Force knows I don't get out much._ "Should I have?"

"It's the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs." Through Han's cocksure attitude, Obi-Wan knew now that he was telling the truth, and taking a considerable amount of pride in it. Han continued, "I've outrun Imperial starships, not the local bulk cruisers, mind you—I'm talking about the big Corellian ships now. She's fast enough for you, old man. What's the cargo?"

"Only passengers," said Obi-Wan, knowing that this captain would be doing some smuggling as usual despite the different sort of cargo. "Myself, the boy, two droids…" He tilted his head back ever so little to add some weight to his words. "…and no questions asked."

Han grinned. "What is it? Some kind of local trouble?"

"Let's just say, we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements."

"Well, that's the trick, isn't it? And it's going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand, all in advance." Obi-Wan saw the spark that was driven by eager desperation. Captain Solo needed all the credits he could get his sticky fingers on. His reply was interrupted by Luke's incredulous outburst.

"Ten _thousand?_ We could almost buy our own ship for that!"

Han smirked. "But who's going to fly it, kid? You?"

Luke turned indignant. "You bet I could. I'm not such a bad pilot myself…" He turned to Obi-Wan. "We don't have to sit here and listen—"

Obi-Wan interrupted him as he responded to Han. "We haven't that much with us. But we could pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan."

"Seventeen, huh?" Han pretended to mull it over, then nodded. "Okay, you guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay ninety-four."

"Ninety-four," Obi-Wan repeated, and suddenly sensed a spike of outside attention.

Han looked over the Jedi's shoulder. "Looks like somebody's beginning to take an interest in your handiwork."

The faint voice of a trooper reached their ears: "All right, we'll check it out." But when the Imperials passed by the booth, only a scruffy-looking smuggler and his Wookiee friend occupied the table, not even taking the energy to look up at the stormtroopers.

Once the stormtroopers had passed out of earshot, Han turned to Chewie with a eager smile. "Seventeen thousand! Those guys must really be desperate. This could really save my neck. Get back to the ship, and get her ready."

Chewie had left, and Han was getting up, checking his pockets for some cash for his drink, when a blaster was shoved into his face. He looked up to see a familiar Rodian.

[Going somewhere, Solo?] Greedo asked in an evidently smug voice.

Han sat back down while saying evenly, "Yes, Greedo; as a matter of fact, I was just going to see your boss. Tell Jabba that I've got his money."

Greedo took the seat opposite from him, the blaster still trained on Solo. [It's too late. You should have paid him when you had the chance. Jabba's put a price on your head, so large that every bounty hunter in the galaxy will be looking for you. I'm lucky I found you first.]

"Yeah, but this time I got the money." Han rolled his eyes in annoyance.

[If you give it to me, I might forget I found you.]

"I don't have it with me." Han's fingers slowly moved toward his holster. "Tell Jabba—"

[Jabba's through with you,] Greedo sneered. [He has no time for smugglers who drop their shipments at the first sign of an Imperial cruiser.]

"Even I get boarded sometimes." Han's voice was weighted with irritation. "Do you think I had a choice?"

[You can tell that to Jabba. He may only take your ship.]

"Over my dead body," Han scoffed, his blaster gradually emerging from his holster under the concealment of the table.

[That's the idea,] Greedo said with a note of enjoyment. [I've been looking forward to killing you for a long time.]

"Yes, I'll bet you have." Han jerked his head to the side as a splash of blaster energy pitted the wall; almost instantaneously he squeezed his own trigger, and Greedo collapsed onto the table, the smell of charred flesh and ozone filling the air. The cloud of smoke mingled with that of the smog already in the air.

Han stood in disgust, holstering his blaster, and flipped the bartender a coin. "Sorry about the mess."

***

The Arcona owner of the speeder lot eventually surrendered somewhat to Luke and handed him some coins. Luke fingered them absently. "He says it's the best he can do. Since the XP-38 came out, they're just not in demand."

Obi-Wan nodded. "It will be enough. If the ship's as fast as he's boasting, we ought to do well."

Luke took one last wistful look at his faithful landspeeder, and then rounded the corner with Obi-Wan.

Neither one noticed the black-cloaked figure that moved out of the shadows and began to follow them at a healthy distance.

They reached the docking bay shortly; Luke stared dubiously at the beat-up Corellian freighter resting in the middle.

"What a piece of junk!"

Han came down the boarding ramp. "She'll make point five beyond the speed of light. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I've added some special modifications myself." He gestured for them to go in. "We're a little rushed, so if you'll hurry aboard we'll get out of here."

They filed in, Threepio nodding at Captain Solo. "Hello, sir."

Han was somewhat relieved. Sure, the cargo had already proven to be rather annoying, but at least he hadn't gotten into any serious trouble yet…

Then the filtered voice reached his ears: "Stop that ship!"

Imperial stormtroopers had to be the least welcoming sight to his eyes. He quickly drew his blaster and snapped off a few shots as another command was given. "Blast 'em!"

__

These Imps mean business, he thought grimly, and ducked as he raced up the boarding ramp and into the cockpit, yelling, "Chewie, get us out of here!"

"Oh, my," mourned Threepio as the passengers strapped themselves in for takeoff. "I'd forgotten how much I hate space travel." 

Han climbed into his pilot's seat while Chewbacca groaned to himself about the present circumstances. It wasn't long before they blasted out of Mos Eisley, and out of Tatooine's arid atmosphere.

Han typed away madly at his calculations, and glanced up through the cockpit's large viewport. "It looks like an Imperial cruiser. Our passengers must be hotter than I thought. Try and hold them off…angle the deflector shield while I make the calculations for the jump to light speed."

There was not one, but two Star Destroyers, and both had noticed the YT-1300 rocketing into space.

Luke and Obi-Wan slid into the cramped cockpit, the former watching in fascination.

Han continued typing, and advised Chewbacca, "Stay sharp. There are two more coming in; they're going to try to cut us off."

"Why don't you outrun them?" questioned Luke. "I thought you said this thing was fast."

"Watch your mouth, kid, or you're going to find yourself floating home," snapped Han. "We'll be safe enough once we make the jump to hyperspace. Besides, I know a few maneuvers. We'll lose them."

Luke wasn't so sure as the _Millennium Falcon_ began to shudder under Imperial fire.

Han almost grinned. "Here's where the fun begins."

"How long before you can make the jump to light speed?" Obi-Wan asked calmly.

"It'll take a few moments to get the coordinates from the navicomputer." Han was absorbed with his work.

"Are you kidding?" exclaimed Luke. "At the rate they're gaining—"

Han cut him off impatiently. "Traveling through hyperspace isn't like dusting crops, boy. Without precise calculations we could fly right through a star or bounce too close to a supernova, and that'd end your trip real quick, wouldn't it?"

Luke ignored the rhetorical question as he pointed at a blinking red light. "What's that flashing?"

Han brushed his hand away as one would an annoying insect. "We're losing our deflector shield. Go strap yourself in; I'm going to make the jump to light speed."

The stars lengthened into streaks as Han pulled the lever, and the _Falcon_ along with its occupants were embraced by the dancing streams of light as they were carried into infinity.

***

It wasn't long before Obi-Wan brought his seeker remote to Luke's attention, and it didn't take the old Jedi any time at all to convince Luke to begin practicing with his father's lightsaber.

The remote made small hissing noises as it used jets of air to propel itself, weaving in front of Luke, who watched it intently.

Obi-Wan was standing to the side, watching him, when the surge came, and he was pulled into a realm of pain…

__

"…is peaceful, we have no weapons, you can't possibly…"

"No…NO!"

A _scream._ A scream such as he had never felt, not in all his years as a Jedi, as a general…never before had there been something of this magnitude, this turbulent maelstrom of confused agony.

Someone was playing a dark and deadly game.

He hadn't even noticed himself tottering to a seat; hadn't even noticed Luke coming toward him with a concerned look on the boyish face.

The youth's words penetrated the veil woven by the agonized consternation of millions. "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

Obi-Wan drifted back from the feelings of the plunging deaths. _Luke didn't feel it. I must keep a good face up for him. Such a feeling would be too much for him just yet, but I will tell him no lies._ "I felt a great disturbance in the Force…as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced…" _Mere words cannot describe the atrocity._ "I fear something terrible has happened." He put a hand to his forehead. _But to whom? And where? _The blinding pain had washed out any sort of connection he might have made.

But Obi-Wan fixed his gaze back on Luke, and tried a reassuring smile. "You'd better get on with your exercises."

Han entered the main hold just then, looking even more sure of himself as usual. "Well, you can forget your troubles with those Imperial slugs. I told you I'd outrun 'em."

Chewbacca was busying himself with a dejarik game with Artoo, and Luke was silently continuing with his lightsaber, Obi-Wan watching.

Han was tempted to roll his eyes, and dropped himself into a swivel chair by the computer board. "Don't everyone thank me at once." His passengers once again failing to respond, he continued, "Anyway, we should be at Alderaan about oh-two-hundred hours."

Chewbacca reached to press a button, moving one of his holographic creatures to intercept Artoo's. 

"Now, be careful, Artoo," Threepio said, becoming involved in the game.

But the little astromech burbled with glee as he spotted a flaw in the Wookiee's plan, and killed off one of Chewbacca's most important pieces.

Chewbacca looked up and roared a complaint at the astromech, angered.

"He made a fair move," stated Threepio. "Screaming about it won't help you—"

"Let him have it," interrupted Han. "It's not wise to upset a Wookiee."

Threepio somehow managed to look flustered despite his stationary faceplate. "But sir, nobody worries about upsetting a droid."

Han wore a roguish half-grin. "That's 'cause droids don't pull people's arms outta their sockets when they lose. Wookiees are known to do that."

Chewbacca sat back in his chair and put his clasped hands behind his head, rumbling softly in his throat.

"I see your point, sir," Threepio said quickly, and looked down to his counterpart. "I suggest a new strategy, Artoo. Let the Wookiee win."

Artoo warbled a melancholy protest before returning to the game.

Luke waited stock-still in the middle of the hold area, watching the remote carefully. 

Obi-Wan studied his movements, gauged his reactions. "Remember, a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him."

"You mean it controls your actions?" asked Luke, not taking his eyes off the hovering seeker.

"Partially," answered Obi-Wan. "But it also obeys your commands." _A lesson in control, to be learned later when you begin to show an appropriate amount of finesse._

The only part of Luke that moved were his eyes, following the little ball. It shifted back and forth, and suddenly let loose with a small laser beam, striking Luke in the leg. The boy winced, taking one hand off the lightsaber handle to hold the sting.

Han burst out with laughter. He had been eyeing the whole procedure skeptically, and said, "Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid."

"You don't believe in the Force, do you?" Luke said, a bit angrily.

Han rolled his eyes. "Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other. I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything to make me believe there's one all-powerful force controlling everything." He raised his brow contemptuously. "There's no mystical energy field that controls my destiny."

Obi-Wan smiled quietly. He'd heard it all before.

"It's all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense," added Han before looking back to the computer panel.

"I suggest you try it again, Luke," Obi-Wan said, taking a helmet and coming up to Luke. "This time, let go your conscious self, and act on…" He firmly placed the helmet over Luke's head, covering his eyes on the word: "…instinct."

Luke laughed. "With the blast shield down, I can't even see. How am I supposed to fight?"

"Your eyes can deceive you," Obi-Wan told him, sitting back down. "Don't trust them."

Han skeptically shook his head, watching the training again.

The seeker activated as it sensed the igniting lightsaber rise in its fields; it bobbed around in the air, then struck out at Luke, the tiny bolt shooting past the lightsaber into the youth. He grimaced under the blast helmet.

Obi-Wan could feel his fading motivation. "Stretch out with your feelings," he encouraged.

Luke straightened and wrapped both hands around the lightsaber handle again, attempting to regain his composure. He stood, frozen, as the seeker hissed to one side…back again…and let out what seemed a barrage compared to before. But Luke moved fluidly, deflecting one, two, and three roundly. He extinguished the lightsaber and pushed the helmet off his head, somewhat flustered but glowing with happiness.

"You see? You can do it." Obi-Wan smiled proudly.

Han raised his eyebrows. "I call it luck."

"In my experience," returned Obi-Wan, "there's no such thing as luck."

But the captain refused to back down. "Look, going against remotes is one thing. Going against the living?" He shook his head, wearing a wide smile of insincerity. "That's something else." Then his attention was drawn to the small light flashing on the far side of the control panel, and he rose from his seat. "Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan."

As Han and Chewbacca headed to the cockpit ahead of them, Luke turned to his mentor. "You know, I did feel something. I could almost see the remote."

Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder. "That's good. You have taken your first step into a larger world." _A world that will take many more steps to even begin to understand, young one. Regardless, you're making a good start._

***

Despite the shortness of time over the trip to reflect over the massive disturbance, it was plain to Obi-Wan that millions, possibly billions of people had been stricken instantly dead, and he guessed that the Empire was not to be considered blameless. But the horrific agony that was the trail was far too painful for him to concentrate on following through the stars; he'd have to wait and see what catastrophic event made its way into the rumors of the public.

For now, he eased his concentration, focusing only on building mental shields. The closer he came to the Core, the more readily his enemies would be able to detect him. _I must be ready._

I am. I have been for over a decade. Instead of the rush of adrenaline that might have arrived in his youth, he simply smiled and waited for the return to realspace.

Han and Chewie were working away in the cockpit; the former was busily looking over the controls. "Stand by, Chewie…here we go. Cut in the sublight engines." He pulled back on a control lever, and the strange patterns of hyperspace elongated back into streaks, then shrunk into the tiny pinpoints of light that marked the stars.

But it quickly became evident that they had not re-entered vacuum in its truest sense. The _Falcon_ shuddered as it was hammered by small chunks of rock.

Han frowned, quickly checking the navicomputer. "What the…? We've come out of hyperspace into a meteor shower. Some kind of asteroid collision. It's not on any of the charts."

Obi-Wan and Luke came into the cockpit, Luke edging in uneasily. "What's going on?" he directed to Han.

"Our position is correct, except…no Alderaan." Beneath the furrowed brow, Obi-Wan could sense his confused mind working rapidly for a credible answer to the disappearance of an entire planet.

Obi-Wan realized, and sank into his memory. _The voices…were Alderaan's people._

Luke was taken aback. "What do you mean? Where is it?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, kid…It ain't there. It's been totally blown away." Han's thoughts eclipsed into a stricken numbness at the thought.

"What? How?"

Obi-Wan gazed out of the cockpit as they came clear of the space debris. "Destroyed, by the Empire."

Han snorted. "The entire starfleet couldn't destroy the whole planet. It'd take a thousand ships with more firepower than I've—" He cut himself off as a signal started flashing. "There's another ship coming in."

"Maybe they know what happened," suggested Luke.

"It's an Imperial fighter," observed Obi-Wan as he recognized the model, looking between Han and Chewbacca to the readings on the computer.

Chewbacca barked his concern.

"It followed us!" exclaimed Luke.

"No," said Obi-Wan. "It's a short-range fighter."

The day was proving to be much more to handle than Han had predicted. "There aren't any bases around here. Where did it come from?"

The fighter rocketed past them as Han slowed to gain a safer position behind the TIE.

"It sure is leaving in a big hurry," observed Luke. "If they identify us, we're in big trouble."

"Not if I can help it," growled Han. "Chewie, jam its transmissions."

"It'd be as well to let it go," suggested Obi-Wan quietly. "It's too far out of range."

Han added power to the sublight engines. "Not for long."

They all watched as the TIE fighter drew closer to what looked like a star at first…but the hovering disk gradually increased in size.

Obi-Wan was attempting to work out the puzzle. "A fighter that size couldn't get this deep into space on its own."

Luke voiced his own thoughts on the matter. "It must have gotten lost, been part of a convoy or something."

"Well, he ain't going to be around long enough to tell anyone about us." Han had dropped the mystery for now, content to simply blast the little fighter into atoms. It was steadily losing ground to him, though blasting ahead at almost full speed…it was the _almost_ that slightly bothered Han.

But something else caught their attention. The point of light that seemed to be the TIE fighter's destination had grown far too large for a star.

"Look at him," Luke said. "He's headed for that small moon."

__

Strange, Obi-Wan thought, burrowing into his memory. _I don't recall Alderaan ever having any moons…_

"I think I can get him before he gets there…" Han's eyes focused on the barely perceptible fighter. "He's almost in range."

In complete comprehension, feeling the life aboard, Obi-Wan said grimly, "That's no moon. It's a space station."

"It's too big to be a space station," Han ridiculed, though he was looking at the growing sphere now, instead of the fighter.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," muttered Luke.

They grew closer; Han tried to smother the shock in his voice as he spoke to Obi-Wan. "Yeah…I think you're right." He suddenly gathered himself into action. "Full reverse. Chewie, lock in the auxiliary power."

The Wookiee copilot moaned as the freighter shuddered and began to vibrate as the TIE fighter reached the battle station safely.

"Chewie!" Han repeated. "Lock in the auxiliary power!"

Chewbacca snarled back his frustrations.

"Why are we still moving towards it?" Luke said in a panicked voice. The gargantuan metal orb was giving him the creeps…much the same way the deserted Tusken camp had all those years ago.

"We're caught in a tractor beam," Han snapped. "It's pulling us in."

"But there's gotta be something you can do!" Luke was beginning to doubt the piratical savvy of the hired captain.

"There's nothin' I can do about it, kid," Han said, exasperated with life in general. "I'm in full power…I'm going to have to shut down. But they're not going to get me without a fight."

Obi-Wan heard the steely resolution in Han's voice, and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You can't win. But there _are_ alternatives to fighting."

Han physically relaxed, his eyes trained on the battle station, mind working away furiously.

Obi-Wan knew there was more to this man than met the eye…he could only hope that that would be enough help to Luke; he felt it was likely the boy would have to carry on without Obi-Wan's physical presence after this was over.

Han now turned to the onboard systems, pulled up the ship's log, and began typing away furiously. Obi-Wan watched as words appeared on the screen, telling that the crew had abandoned ship just after takeoff, leaving in a couple of the escape pods. Fortunately, there already were a couple of escape pods gone from the ship; Han had never bothered to replace them, as there were enough for him and Chewie at least.

The four watched in silence as the _Falcon_ was pulled past a docking port control room and several turbolaser turrets. _This battle station is a formidable weapon, indeed,_ thought Obi-Wan. _But not powerful enough._

***

The conference room was empty save for Grand Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader. The former leaned over the table to push a button in response to a comm call. "Yes?"

An officer's voice came over the comm. "We've captured a freighter entering the remains of the Alderaan system. Its markings match those of a ship that blasted its way out of Mos Eisley."

Vader's suspicion was instantly aroused. "They must be trying to return the stolen plans to the princess. She may yet be of some use to us."

***

The Sith lord approached the troops surrounding the _Millennium Falcon_ in the docking bay as an Imperial officer and several troopers came down the boarding ramp. The officer noticed Vader and marched up to report. "There's no one on board, sir. According to the log, the crew abandoned ship right after takeoff. It must be a decoy, sir. Several of the escape pods have been jettisoned."

"Did you find any droids?" Vader inquired.

"No, sir. If there were any on board, they must also have jettisoned."

There it was again. That little niggling in the far reaches of Vader's perception. Someone was here, someone he knew. Someone Force-sensitive, and able to block himself effectively. That alone told Vader all he needed to know. "Send a scanning crew on board. I want every part of this ship checked."

"Yes, sir." Any resignation the officer might have had at this order was buried away deeply. Orders were to be followed, not questioned…especially when they came from Darth Vader.

The Sith lord tried unsuccessfully to locate the elusive presence. It slipped away from his grasp every time he tried to put a finger on it, to hold it still, and he mused to himself, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "I sense something…a presence I haven't felt since…" But he cut off the thought abruptly and stalked away. He might not be able to pin the old man down metaphysically, but even Kenobi could not escape physical discovery.

As Vader left, he heard the officer issuing commands: "Get me a scanning crew in here on the double. I want every part of this ship checked!"

***

The muffled thundering of steps rang out over his head, then all was silent. Pushing up on the concealing floor panels, they emerged from their hiding places.

Luke took a breath of fresher air, and said to Han, "Boy, it's lucky you had these compartments."

"I use them for smuggling. I never thought I'd be smuggling myself in them," the captain grumbled. "This is ridiculous. Even if I could take off, I'd never get past the tractor beam."

"Leave that to me," Obi-Wan advised.

"Damn fool," Han muttered. "I knew you were going to say that."

Obi-Wan might have grinned, in an earlier year; he kept it to an internal smile. "Who's more foolish: the fool, or the fool who follows him?"

Chewbacca voiced his opinion as they struggled out of the hidden compartments. Han put up a hand for silence as he listened to the voice coming from past the open boarding ramp, the distant voice of a stormtrooper.

"The ship's all yours," they heard. "If the scanners pick up anything, report it immediately. All right, let's go."

Han nodded to Chewie and drew his blaster.

"What're you doing?" hissed Luke. "They'll hear that!"

Han shook his head and pointed to the butt of his blaster. "I'm going to use the other end, kid. Some things have more than one use."

Chewbacca stood ready with him, and they struck out silently as the crewmen came inside. Both of the Imperials fell to the floor, unconscious before they even knew what had happened, letting the large scanning machinery fall to the floor with a loud crash.

Han shouted down the boarding ramp to the guards, "Hey down there, could you give us a hand with this?"

The stormtroopers fell for it, and this time Han used the regular business end of his blaster, stunning the two before they could issue any cries.

Chewbacca quickly produced a couple of small syringes he had picked out of the ship's med kit, and injected half a syringe into each of the men.

"Anesthetic," Han noted. "Should keep them out for at least three hours. Okay, kid, get yourself into one of these uniforms. We'll have to masquerade Imperial style."

Han had just gotten his helmet on when the voice of an officer came over the comm unit next to his ear. "TK421, why aren't you at your post? TK421, do you copy?"

Fully decked out in his stolen stormtrooper armor, Han walked down to the bay floor and looked up at the officer peering out of the window. He tapped at the side of his head, giving a small shrug.

The officer left the window; Han quickly gestured for the others to follow him. Chewbacca trotted down the ramp, followed closely by Obi-Wan, then Luke came in his set of armor with the two droids. All considered, the smuggler captain was surprised at how quickly they got up to the small office overlooking the docking bay.

The office's door slid open; the Imperials inside were taken aback by the sight of the snarling Wookiee, who flattened the officer with a sweep of his arm. The aide reached for his blaster too late, and received a blast from Han.

Luke, Obi-Wan, and the droids quickly followed them into the room, Luke closing the door behind them and tearing off his helmet, revealing his exasperated expression.

"You know, between his howling and your blasting everything in sight, it's a wonder the whole station doesn't know we're here."

"Bring them on," Han shot back. "I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around."

"We found the computer outlet, sir," Threepio interrupted their conversation.

Obi-Wan turned to the computer as Artoo sidled up. "Plug in. He should be able to interpret the entire Imperial computer network."

Artoo plugged into the jack and the screen came to life. He burbled something to Threepio after a few moments, who translated for the group. "He says he's found the main computer to power the tractor beam that's holding the ship here. He'll try to make the precise location appear on the monitor."

The screen flashed readouts as Threepio droned like a narrator: "The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactor in seven locations. A power loss at one of the terminals will allow the ship to leave."

Obi-Wan studied the readouts. "I don't think you boys can help. I must go alone."

"Whatever you say." Han sat back in the chair and shook his head. "I've done more than I bargained for on this trip already."

"I want to go with you," interjected Luke, stepping forward.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Be patient, Luke. Stay and watch over the droids."

"But he can—"

"They must be delivered safely or other star systems will suffer the same fate as Alderaan," Obi-Wan pressed on him. "Your destiny lies along a different path than mine. The Force will be with you…always." He touched his lightsaber clipped to his belt and silently stepped out of the command office into the hallway.

***

The corridors were long and wide, but not many troops occupied this area. Mentally reviewing the location from the computer monitors, it wasn't long before he entered a service area that powered the tractor beam. Below the walkway the chasm stretched out for what seemed to be a hundred kilometers, but that didn't faze him; he'd fought for his life on walkways narrower than this.

An enormous pillar was located off to the side, with only a tiny path surrounding it. He edged around, keeping his weight close to the pillar, and reached the controls.

A twist here, a pull there. One of the most powerful tractor beams in the galaxy was rendered ineffective in mere seconds by a furtive old man.

As he kept moving around the pillar of machinery, a few stormtroopers marched by. He heard the filtered voice of an officer: "Secure this area until the alert is canceled."

Another trooper responded. "Give me regular reports."

The squad passed on, leaving behind two as guards.

"Do you know what's going on?" one of the stormtroopers asked the other, only slightly curious.

"Maybe it's another drill." The stormtroopers, not expecting any trouble, were facing each other and hardly bothered to survey the area.

Obi-Wan stretched out his hand, just a little; a small echoing noise reached the stormtroopers' minds.

The second trooper was alerted, and looked in the direction he thought the noise had come from as Obi-Wan slipped past. "What was that?"

"Oh, it's nothing," the first trooper shrugged off. "Don't worry about it."

Obi-Wan was not one to tempt fate, certainly not after all these years, and kept his haste in check as he glided silently through the halls. A rushed decision could create a compromise he didn't want, and he knew there were only two outcomes here and now. Either he made it back to the _Falcon,_ or was dispatched by Vader. Knowing the Sith lord's preferences, Obi-Wan doubted Vader would be pleased to hear that his old Master had been mowed down by an overwhelming barrage of blaster fire. No, Vader would want the glory to himself, to exact his revenge.

Obi-Wan was using nearly all his concentration to shield himself and the other party (especially Luke), and couldn't risk probing the area closely enough to reveal the mentally cloaked Sith lord that homed in on his distant wake.

So it was that his faint hope of actually reaching the _Falcon_ before fate claimed him rose slightly as he closed in on the door that would lead him into the hangar bay; that same spark of hope was extinguished at first the sound, then the sight of Darth Vader closing in on him.

Out of the cylindrical hilt enclosed in Vader's ebony-gloved hand, a crimson blade slid up. Obi-Wan slowly stepped forward, taking out and igniting his own lightsaber. So it had come to this…

The mechanical voice that Obi-Wan had never yet heard emanated from beneath the death-mask. "I've been waiting for you, Obi-Wan. We meet again, at last. The circle is now complete."

The Jedi Master shifted his stance into a defensive position with an elegant ease belying his age as the dark lord continued. "When I left you, I was but the learner; now I am the master."

"Only a master of evil, Darth," Obi-Wan returned as the mental pressure began. Vader had indeed grown powerful, and the festering wave threatened to push his mind over the brink…but he had taught this monster much of what he still used, and was able to counter the psychic blows as the physical ones began.

This was his first lightsaber duel since Anakin's fall, and was likely to be his last. So focused were the Sith and the Jedi on each other, they hardly battled with the physical intensity that Obi-Wan so well remembered; Vader was more intent on breaking into old Kenobi's mental defenses.

And almost slipped through as Obi-Wan blocked an onset of nausea.

"Your powers are weak, old man," Vader taunted, coming in for another assault.

But Obi-Wan's blue eyes were burning with all their fire of his youth. "You can't win, Darth. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

Vader ignored his words, strengthening his attacks.

The interest of the troopers in the docking bay were drawn by the duel, something they'd never had the opportunity to witness before. As they came closer to the action, blasters ready, Han was waiting for a clear run to the _Falcon,_ and seized the moment. "Now's our chance. Go!"

They started for the freighter as Ben looked over to the doorway, seeing the troopers heading in his direction. He was trapped, finally cornered by the Empire…or so Darth Vader thought, who pressed in his offensive.

Luke didn't think of running to safety. His widened eyes were trained on his best friend and his soon-to-be mortal enemy.

Obi-Wan turned to look at Luke, and smiled, bringing up his lightsaber vertically in front of him. He would not die in vain; he had already accomplished much, enough to ensure Luke's continuing curiousity and relative safety.

He felt, more than saw Luke's shocked expression change to horror as the red blade cut into his side, and then there was nothing…

But just before that moment of void, he heard Luke's scream, he saw Vader purposefully striding toward the docking bay…and he reached out to shut the door.

***

The cloak was empty. Vader had seen Kenobi vanish in what took no time at all. He had heard of this happening before, but had never actually witnessed it; he'd heard, as a Padawan, that it only happened to the Jedi who achieved true enlightenment.

Well, _someone_ had been enlightened enough to shut the blast doors in his face, and he had little doubt as to who had done such a thing.

So turning back to the empty robes, Vader extended one gloved hand to pick something small, fine, and silver off the inside of the hood…

~~~***~~~

Jandalf: Huzzah!

Audreidi: The AU ending I have mentioned has sort of grown into a fic of its own, and we are already well underway, with a fair idea of what it'll turn out to be like. So, all that taken into consideration, Jandalf and I have decided to post it as a fic of its own. It wouldn't necessarily help to have read this first, but I think I have and will be placing some references into it from this fic.

Jandalf: And remember, people, Vader extended one gloved hand to pick something **small, fine, and silver off the inside of the hood…**

Audreidi: Jandalf! Don't!

Jandalf: But I'm only creating a horrible horrible cliffie!

Audreidi: They already know there's a cliffie.

Jandalf: Well, yeah, but I'm making it worse. MWAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!! READ THE AU!!!! Read it good.

Audreidi: (sigh) Anyhow, thanks for reading, and MTFBWY, one and all.


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